PARFIT 
GENTIL 
KNIGHT 


IT  p  n  a  q_2- 


CHARLTON  ANDREWS 


/eJ 


RAOUL  AND  VICTOIRE  SAT  BEFORE  A  GREAT  SMOLDERING  FIRE 


Parfit  Gentil  Knight 


By 

Charlton  Andrews 


With   12  Full-Page  Drawings  by  J.  H.  Vanderpoel 


Chicago 

A.  C.  McClurg  &   Co. 
1901 


COPYRIGHT 
BY  A.  C.  MCCLURG  &  Co. 

A.D.    IQOI 


S>R  CAUF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


TO  THE 

SYMPATHETIC  AND  INSPIRING  COLLABORATOR, 
WHO  is 

MY    WIFE. 

AUGUST,  1901. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  A  RENDEZVOUS  AND  A  PARENT n 

II.  A  SURPRISE  AND  A  SWORDSMAN 23 

III.  A  CAPITULATION  AND  A  MESSAGE    ....  33 

IV.  A  HUGUENOT  AND  A  PRINCE 45 

V.  A  CARDINAL  AND  AN  AMBITION 59 

VI.  A  LADY  AND  A  LOVER 66 

VII.  A  VISITOR  AND  AN  AVOWAL 79 

VIII.  A  CONFIDANT  AND  A  RESOLUTION    ....  88 

IX.  A  HUSBAND  AND  A  FRIEND 97 

X.  A  VOLUME  AND  AN  APOSTASY no 

XI.  A  PLOT  AND  A  WARNING 124 

XII.  AN  ANXIETY  AND  A  SUBTERFUGE     ....  132 

XIII.  A  BATTLE  AND  A  STRANGER 143 

XIV.  AN  ENCOUNTER  AND  A  RECEPTION  ....  155 
XV.  A  REPULSE  AND  A  SUSPICION 167 

XVI.  A  RUSE  AND  AN  INTERVENTION 178 

XVII.  A  SUBJECT  AND  A  SOVEREIGN 191 

XVIII.  A  PORTRAYAL  AND  A  PROMISE 200 

XIX.  A  CAMP  AND  AN  INCIDENT  .......  208 

XX.  A  TRAITOR  AND  AN  EXPEDIENT 222 

XXI.  A  CATASTROPHE  AND  A  FRUSTRATION  .     .     .  233 

XXII.  A  TEMPER  AND  A  RECONCILIATION  ....  241 

2125479 


Vlii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIII.  A  RUMOR  AND  AN  ERROR 255 

XXIV.  A  DUEL  AND  AN  INTERRUPTION    ....  257 
XXV.  A  FALSEHOOD  AND  ANOTHER 281 

XXVI.  AN  EXPLANATION  AND  AN  ARREST    .    .    .  295 

XXVII.  A  RESTRAINT  AND  A  DELIVERANCE  .    .     .  307 

XXVIII.  A  RECITAL  AND  A  REQUEST 325 

XXIX.  A  QUARREL  AND  A  REPENTANCE  ....  339 

XXX.  A  FATALITY  AND  A  TEMPTATION  ....  347 

XXXI.  A  DISASTER  AND  A  LIGHT 362 

XXXII.  A  PROMISE  AND  A  BLUNDER 377 

XXXIII.  A  MASSACRE  AND  A  MANIAC 392 

XXXIV.  A  LOVE  AND  A  LIFE 402 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

Raoul  and  Victoire  sat  before  a  smouldering  fire  Frontispiece 

Antoinette  was  assisting  Victoire  de  Mdzieres  in  her  toilet  14 

Chabanes  had  lifted  her  from  the  floor 1 20 

A  soldier  carried  him  from  the  field  across  the  saddlebows  145 

The  two  young  men  perceived  a  small  skiff 159 

It  was  evident  that  the  plans  had  been  carefully  laid  .  .  227 

At  that  point  the  door  on  the  gallery  opened 275 

"  If  I  go,  it  will  be  when  you  are  free  " 319 

He  wheels  his  horse  and  looks  up  to  the  window  .  .  .  372 

"  I  disappear  by  the  aid  of  faithful  and  subtle  friends  "  .  384 
Chabanes  perceived  a  man  standing  with  one  foot  on  the 

body 393 

Presently  the  German  returned  on  foot  to  renew  the 

conflict 407 


A  Parfit  Gentil  Knight 


A  RENDEZVOUS  AND  A  PARENT 

ONE  radiant  moonlit  night  in  the  month  of  June, 
1567,  a  small  troop  of  horsemen  were  skirting 
the  ivy-covered  wall  of  a  great  gloomy  chateau,  whose 
blank  windows,  but  one  of  which  was  lighted,  reflected 
weirdly  the  golden  effulgence  that  cast  deep  black 
shadows  into  the  numberless  corners  and  angles  of 
the  irregular  fagade.  The  leader  of  these  men  was  a 
tall,  majestic  youth,  whose  high  and  haughty  expres- 
sion marked  him  as  a  gentleman  of  unmistakable 
birth  and  breeding,  accustomed  only  to  the  obedience 
and  deference  that  his  companions  showed  him  in 
every  look,  word,  and  action.  These  others  were 
evidently  gentlemen  in  attendance  on  him.  One  of 
them,  whose  guttural  accents  betrayed  his  German 
origin,  approached  the  young  man,  who  was  im- 
patiently spurring  his  horse  out  of  the  walk  into 
which  it  had  fallen,  and  spoke  to  him  in  a  low  and 
respectful  tone. 

"  Your  pardon,  Monseigneur,  but  had  we  not  better 
proceed  more  slowly?  It  is  a  full  hour  till  the  time 
appointed  for  the  rendezvous." 


12  A   PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

The  young  man  so  addressed  brought  his  riding- 
whip  down  on  his  long  boot  with  such  force  that  his 
horse  bounded  off  at  a  gallop  and  was  only  stopped 
with  difficulty  some  paces  ahead  of  the  others,  who 
hastened  to  overtake  their  impatient  leader.  The 
German  was  quickly  beside  his  master  again. 

"  A  thousand  devils,  Besme ! "  cried  the  latter. 
"Am  I  to  go  forever  skulking  about  here  like  a 
thief  because  the  Marquis  de  Mezieres  has  a  hand- 
ful of  armed  knaves  to  guard  his  crumbling  old 
chateau?" 

"  But,  Monseigneur,"  humbly  remonstrated  Besme, 
"  let  me  recall  the  dangers  to  which  you  might  subject 
Mademoiselle." 

"  True,  true,"  replied  the  youth ;  "  your  accursed 
foresight  is  infallible.  But  how  much  longer  have  we 
to  wait?  " 

As  he  spoke  he  drew  from  a  pocket  of  his  gray- 
and-silver  doublet  a  richly  chased  watch,  which  he 
eagerly  examined  by  the  pale  light  of  the  moon 
pouring  over  the  wall  to  his  left. 

"The  note,  Monseigneur,"  the  German  continued, 
deferentially,  "  expressly  requested  that  no  sign  of 
your  presence  should  be  given  before  eleven.  At 
that  hour  the  guard  is  to  be  withdrawn  and  the  meet- 
ing may  take  place  in  safety  both  to  yourself  and  to 
Mademoiselle." 

The  young  man,  who  was  no  other  than  Henri  de 
Lorraine,  Due  de  Guise,  had  scarcely  heeded  Besme's 
words.  The  hands  of  the  watch  marked  ten  o'clock, 
and  as  though  he  doubted  their  accuracy  and  wished 
to  be  more  thoroughly  convinced,  he  pressed  a  spring 


A   RENDEZVOUS  AND  A   PARENT  13 

in  the  stem,  and  the  clear,  musical  tones  of  a  tiny 
silver  bell  struck  the  hour. 

"  Ten  o'clock,"  said  Besme,  who  had  counted  the 
strokes ;  "  you  see  it  is  yet  a  full  hour." 

The  Due  de  Guise  bit  his  lip  and  smothered  an 
impatient  oath.  Then  he  impulsively  leaped  from  his 
horse,  which  by  now  had  almost  reached  the  great 
arched  gate  in  the  chateau  wall,  gave  the  reins  to  one 
of  his  followers,  threw  his  long  black  mantle  on  the 
grass  at  the  side  of  the  road,  and  lay  down  on  it. 
His  eye  followed  the  line  of  blank  windows  behind 
the  wall  until  it  rested  on  one  faintly  lighted  from 
within  by  the  gleam  of  a  candle.  It  was  the  chamber 
of  Victoire  de  Mezieres,  and  at  sight  of  it  the  duke's 
heart  bounded  with  mingled  expectancy  and  longing. 
The  other  cavaliers,  following  their  leader's  example, 
reclined  at  full  length  on  the  ground,  conversing  in 
low  tones.  From  time  to  time  the  duke  uttered  a 
sigh  or  an  oath  of  impatience  and  several  times  he 
drew  out  his  watch,  making  it  strike  the  hour  that 
was  so  slow  in  passing. 

However,  he  kept  his  eye  almost  constantly  on  the 
single  lighted  window  of  the  chateau. 

The  chamber  from  which  this  window  opened  was 
hung  with  dingy  tapestries  that  emitted  a  musty  odor 
of  age  and  that  added  greatly  to  the  solemn  gloom 
of  the  apartment.  The  single  candle  that  joined  its 
feeble  rays  with  the  more  ample  light  of  the  moon, 
streaming  directly  in  on  the  heavy  dark  carpet,  stood 
in  a  silver  candelabrum  on  a  carved  oak  table,  over 
which  were  strewn  numerous  jewelled  boxes,  brushes, 
and  articles  of  the  feminine  toilet.  Before  this  table, 


14  A  PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

facing  a  large  oval  mirror,  were  two  young  women. 
The  elder  of  them  was  dark  and  of  slight  stature. 
Her  features  were  somewhat  irregular,  her  complexion 
olive,  and  her  figure  rather  too  plump  to  suggest  a 
Greek  goddess,  but  she  wore  a  general  air  of  joviality 
combined  with  frankness  that  was  almost  captivating. 
Antoinette  de  Lerac,  the  last  of  a  race  that  had  con- 
tributed no  little  to  the  greatness  of  France,  but  that 
had  gradually  lost  its  estates  and  prestige,  was  the 
maid  and  companion  of  Victoire  de  M6zieres.  The 
two  girls  had  passed  together  the  greater  portion  of 
their  otherwise  lonely  lives,  and  the  friendship  of 
childhood  had  ripened  with  themselves  until  they 
had  become  inseparable  companions. 

Victoire  de  Mezieres,  whom  Antoinette  was  as- 
sisting in  the  arrangement  of  an  elaborate  toilet, 
daughter  and  heiress  of  the  Marquis  de  Mezieres, 
was  a  very  beautiful  young  girl.  Tall  and  stately, 
she  had  lustrous  black  hair,  a  complexion  of  dazzling 
whiteness,  and  intensely  deep  blue  eyes,  from  whose 
liquid  depths  there  shone  the  light  .of  an  ardent 
nature,  which,  in  spite  of  its  almost  haughty  pride, 
was  capable  of  great  tenderness  and  keen  sympathy. 
The  full,  ripe  curve  of  her  perfect  mouth  added  an 
irresistible  charm  to  her  countenance,  and  her  willowy, 
girlish  figure  was  already  ravishing  in  its  graceful 
symmetry. 

The  two  women,  as  they  proceeded  with  the  almost 
completed  toilet,  conversed  in  subdued  tones,  as 
though  fearful  of  being  overheard.  Guise  must  have 
been  gratified  could  he  have  seen  the  impatience 
with  which  Victoire  permitted  Antoinette  to  comb 


4  < . 

J 


ANTOINETTE   WAS  ASSISTING  VICTOIRE    DE   MEZIERES   IN    HER  TOILET 


A   RENDEZVOUS  AND  A   PARENT  15 

out  her  long  black  tresses ;  and  could  he  have  heard 
the  mingled  eagerness  and  sorrow  that  softened  her 
voice  as  she  spoke  to  the  maid  of  this  rendezvous, 
which  in  all  probability  was  to  be  their  last,  his 
heart  would  have  been  filled  with  pride. 

For  the  twentieth  occasion  in  the  course  of  an 
hour  Victoire  demanded  the  time. 

"  Half-past  ten,  Mademoiselle,"  replied  Antoinette, 
who  for  convenience  had  placed  her  watch  on  the 
dressing-table. 

"  Anne,  I  honestly  believe  you .  are  setting  back 
that  watch !  Its  hands  have  not  moved  five  minutes 
during  a  whole  half-hour !  " 

"  Remember  the  guard,  Mademoiselle  !  We  must 
not  endanger  our  lovers'  lives." 

"  '  Lovers,'  indeed  !  Why  do  you  always  designate 
our  friends  by  that  term?  Even  if  you  persist  in 
calling  M.  de  Guise  my  lover,  you  know  very  well 
I  shall  not  grant  that  remarkable  German  a  similar 
position  in  your  esteem.  Confess  that  you  only 
laugh  at  him." 

"And  who  would  not?"  cried  the  maid,  gleefully. 
"  With  his  great  bristling  moustaches  and  swaggering 
walk,  what  fitter  subject  for  mirth  could  there  be  ? 
Ah,  you  should  hear  him  make  love !  " 

"  For  shame,  Anne  !  This  Besme  is  only  a  soldier 
and  a  valiant  retainer  of  the  duke ;  if  he  woos  awk- 
wardly, doubtless  his  heart  is  true,  and  you  should 
deal  gently  with  him." 

"  In  my  opinion,  Mademoiselle,"  replied  Antoi- 
nette, earnestly,  "  his  valor  is  all  sham.  He  parades 
his  courage  and  fidelity  on  every  occasion,  and  I 


1 6  A   PAR  FIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

fancy  it  all  springs  from  a  very  fertile  and  vainglori- 
ous imagination.  Of  one  thing  I  am  certain :  he  is 
unscrupulous  and  deceitful." 

"  Come,  Anne,  you  are  too  severe.  M.  de  Guise 
would  be  sure  to  know  of  any  such  defect  in  this 
Besme." 

"  And  what  if  he  did  ?  Do  not  all  great  princes 
have  their  unprincipled  followers,  who  when  occasion 
demands  will  quietly  cut  a  throat  or  start  a  lie?" 

"  My  dear  Anne,  what  a  humor  you  are  in  to- 
night ! "  exclaimed  Victoire,  in  astonishment.  "  I 
cannot  allow  you  to  suggest  such  dreadful  things. 
You,  as  well  as  I,  know  M.  de  Guise  to  be  the  soul 
of  honor.  He,  of  all  men,  would  be  the  last  to 
stoop  to  crime,  no  matter  what  end  he  might  have 
in  view." 

In  the  half-light  of  the  flickering  candle,  Victoire 
could  not  decipher  the  incredulous  expression  her 
maid's  features  wore,  although  the  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  that  greeted  the  defense  of  Guise,  was 
apparent  enough.  There  was  a  short  silence,  which 
Victoire  broke  by  asking  earnestly,  "Anne,  what 
is  your  real  opinion  of  the  Due  de  Guise?" 

"The  Due  de  Guise,  Mademoiselle?  He  is  a  tall, 
handsome,  haughty,  majestic,  gracious  youth,  full  of 
ambition  and  energy  and  an  intense  admiration  for 
the  daughter  of  the  Marquis  de  M6zieres,  who  re- 
ceives his  advances  almost  as  coldly  as  does  her 
father  —  " 

"  Ah,  but  I  know  all  that.  I  want  your  opinion 
of  the  duke's  character." 

"  Mademoiselle,  it  is  my  simple  opinion  that  the 


A   RENDEZVOUS  AND  A   PARENT  I? 

Due  de  Guise  is  much  the  same  in  character  as  all 
other  great  princes." 

"  Nonsense,  Anne  !  You  only  wish  to  be  contrary. 
Now  give  me  my  ruff  and  be  sensible.  M.  de  Guise 
is  coming  for  the  last  time.  When  we  see  him  again 
we  shall  be  the  great  lady  and  her  good  companion, 
equal  in  rank  and  all  other  things  to  himself,  as 
becomes  the  wife  of  a  prince  and  her  chief  lady-in- 
waiting,  del!  It  is  five  minutes  to  eleven!  Are 
you  sure  the  marquis  has  retired?" 

"  Gaston  said  his  master  was  in  bed  a  full  hour 
ago." 

"  And  our  valiant  guard?  " 

"  Is  about  to  retire  to  its  quarters." 

The  maid  had  scarcely  spoken  when  the  two 
heard  the  measured  tramp  of  the  guard  returning 
to  quarters  through  the  corridor.  When  the  last 
steps  had  died  away,  Antoinette  cautiously  opened 
the  window  and  looked  below.  The  Due  de  Guise, 
wrapped  in  his  cloak,  was  standing  just  beneath  her, 
and  some  paces  behind  him  crouched  Besme,  sword 
in  hand.  The  maid  placed  her  finger  to  her  lips 
enjoining  silence,  to  which  gesture  the  duke  replied 
with  a  nod.  Then  Antoinette  returned  to  the  table, 
from  which  she  took  a 'ball  of  silk  cord,  smiling  at 
Victoire,  who,  trembling  with  expectation,  stood  be- 
fore the  mirror  adding  the  last  touches  to  her  toilet. 
The  maid  dropped  the  ball  from  the  window,  retain- 
ing one  end  of  the  cord,  to  the  other  end  of  which 
Besme,  having  approached,  attached  a  stout  rope- 
ladder.  This  was  quickly  drawn  up,  and  in  a  few 
seconds  the  Due  de  Guise,  hat  in  hand,  entered  the 


1 8  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

chamber.     He   was   followed   by   the   German,  who 
drew  up  the  ladder  and  closed  the  window. 

Guise  advanced  to  the  table,  where  Victoire  still 
stood,  and,  kneeling,  fervently  kissed  her  hand. 
Victoire  sighed  gently,  scarce  knowing  how  to  speak, 
and  Guise,  emboldened  by  her  apparent  confusion, 
arose  and  was  about  to  clasp  her  in  his  arms.  She 
divined  his  purpose  and,  restraining  him  with  a  ges- 
ture, motioned  him  to  a  seat  beside  her  on  a  low 
divan.  Antoinette  and  Besme  discreetly  withdrew  to 
another  corner  of  the  room. 

Victoire  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  Forgive  me,  Monsieur,"  she  said,  softly,  "  for 
having  exposed  you  to  the  dangers  you  brave  in 
coming  here  to-night ;  but  since  my  father  has  irrevo- 
cably decided  on  my  immediate  marriage  with  the 
Prince  de  Montpensier,  from  to-morrow  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  wedding  will  actively  commence.  I  — 
my  interest  in  you  —  " 

The  duke  impulsively  interrupted  her. 

"Victoire,  is  there  no  way  to  prevent  this?  I 
know  your  father  is  obdurate;  none  the  less  so  is 
my  uncle,  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine.  My  request 
that  he  beseech  the  king  to  forbid  this  marriage 
has  only  brought  on  me  his  reproaches  and  dis- 
favor. He  tells  me  that  the  pride  of  a  Guise  should 
teach  me  to  treat  with  silent  contempt  your  father's 
breach  of  faith.  And  when,  at  length,  in  despair, 
I  confessed  that  I  loved  you,  that  it  was  not  for 
the  Due  du  Maine,  my  brother,  to  whom  you 
were  first  affianced,  that  I  wanted  you,  I  was  sent 
from  him  ridiculed  and  in  disgrace.  No  earthly 


A   RENDEZVOUS  AND  A   PARENT  ig 

power  can  move  my  uncle,  —  nor,  as  it  seems,  your 
father." 

He  paused,  breathless  after  this  outburst,  and  cast 
at  Victoire  so  ardent  a  look  that  she  blushed  modestly 
and  glanced  down  at  the  floor. 

"  Monsieur,"  she  said,  in  a  troubled  tone,  "  you 
must  know  this  is  all  very  difficult  for  me.  And  yet, 
perhaps  it  is  for  the  best  that  circumstances  have 
changed.  For  political  reasons  there  is  great  advan- 
tage, my  father  assures  me,  in  the  immediate  alliance 
of  our  house  with  that  of  Bourbon." 

"  But  your  father  has  broken  his  word  to  my  uncle, 
the  cardinal !  "  cried  the  duke,  who  knew  that  the 
advantage  lay  in  the  Bourbons  obtaining  possession 
of  the  wealth  to  which  Victoire  was  heiress. 

"  I  know,"  she  replied,  sadly,  "  and  although  he 
excuses  himself  on  the  ground  of  'welfare  of  the 
State,'  I  cannot  so  easily  forgive  him.  But  more 
than  this,  Monsieur ;  perhaps  it  is  the  hand  of  Provi- 
dence that  thus  gives  me  to  this  young  prince,  whom 
I  have  never  even  seen,  rather  than  to  the  brother  of 
the  —  of  yourself,  Monsieur." 

Guise  regarded  her  tenderly;  there  were  tears 
glistening  in  her  great  blue  eyes. 

"  Victoire,"  he  exclaimed,  seizing  her  hand,  which 
she  did  not  at  once  withdraw,  and  pressing  it  passion- 
ately, "  it  is  not  as  my  sister-in-law  that  I  would  have 
you.  I  have  come  to-night  to  ask  you  to  go  with  me, 
to  fly  from  all  this  sordid  intrigue  that  so  enmeshes  us 
and  that  makes  our  lives  such  miserable  struggles  —  " 

Victoire,  having  acquired  greater  control  of  her 
feelings,  interrupted  him. 


2O  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  Monsieur,  this  is  indeed  a  proof  of  the  esteem  in 
which  you  hold  me;  but,  without  doubting  in  the 
least  your  evident  sincerity,  I  cannot  help  ascribing 
your  words  to  impulse,  and  feeling  that  any  action 
taken  on  them  now  could  result  only  in  measureless 
regret.  Hear  me,  I  beg  of  you,"  she  continued,  as 
he  attempted  to  interrupt.  "  Does  it  stand  to  reason 
that  the  head  of  the  house  of  Lorraine,  that  the  Due 
de  Guise,  the  acknowledged  leader  of  the  Catholics, 
on  whom  must  fall  the  heaviest  duties  in  the  defense 
of  his  faith  and  his  country,  could  afford  to  defy 
France  and  the  king,  —  for  my  father  assures  me  that 
his  Majesty  has  been  led  to  sanction  my  marriage 
with  M.  de  Montpensier,  —  by  eloping  with  the 
daughter  of  a  simple  marquis,  the  fiancee  of  another 
man  ?  I  beg  of  you  to  reconsider  your  words  and  to 
withdraw  them  at  once.  Monsieur,  why  did  the 
Cardinal  de  Lorraine  ridicule  you  when  you  told  him 
that  your  interest  in  me  was  —  more  than  he  had 
supposed  ?  It  was  because  he  was  ambitious  for 
you,  if  you  will  not  be  so  for  yourself.  It  was  because 
even  then  his  eyes  were  on  one  that  —  " 

She  hesitated.  The  duke  saw  her  beautiful  under- 
lip  quiver  and  her  eyes  fill  with  tears.  Unable  to 
restrain  himself  longer,  he  decided  to  play  his  last 
card. 

"  Victoire,"  he  cried,  "  you  are  unjust ;  you  do  not 
trust  me.  What  are  all  the  ambitions  of  the  cardinal 
to  me  when  you  are  in  the  question,  when  I  love  you 
so  ?  I  know  your  meaning.  It  is  that  my  uncle 
dreams  of  marrying  me  to  Marguerite  de  Valois,  the 
sister  of  the  king.  But  I  swear  to  you,  that  marriage 


A   RENDEZVOUS  AND  A   PARENT  21 

shall  never  take  place  while  I  have  the  slightest 
assurance  of  your  interest  in  me.  I  love  you,  Vic- 
toire,  and  not  even  Madame,  with  all  her  beauty, 
accomplishments,  rank,  can  ever  for  an  instant  influ- 
ence me  to  forget  you,  who  are  so  far  her  superior." 

"  I  shall  always  be  your  friend,  Henri,"  replied 
Victoire,  tenderly.  "The  short,  sweet  days  that  we 
have  passed  together  shall  always  remain  in  my 
memory  as  the  time  of  my  greatest  happiness.  If 
you  would  only  admit  it  to  yourself,  you  would  real- 
ize the  impossibility  of  the  plan  you  propose.  My 
father  has  been  a  hard  master  in  many  ways,  but 
I  owe  him  much,  and  I  shall  try  to  do  my  duty. 
Think  for  a  moment  of  my  prospects ;  are  they  more 
alluring  than  your  own  ?  I  am  to  marry  one  that  I 
have  never  seen,  that  I  have  scarcely  heard  of,  that  I 
cannot  be  expected  to  love.  Do  your  duty  to  your 
king  and  to  yourself,  Henri,  and  you  will  help  me 
to  discharge  my  own." 

Guise  would  listen  no  longer.  "  Milles  diables  !  " 
he  exclaimed,  petulantly.  "  I  will  make  my  duty 
what  I  will,  and  you  can  do  likewise  if  you  so 
desire !  " 

Victoire  smiled  sadly.  "Foolish  boy,"  she  said, 
"will  you  never  learn  to  control  your  impulses? 
Take  care  lest  they  lead  you  too  far !  Is  it  not 
passing  strange  that  the  great  Due  de  Guise  should 
learn  his  lesson  of  obedience  from  the  frivolous  little 
Victoire  de  Mezieres?  " 

To  divert  his  vehemence  she  signed  to  Antoi- 
nette, who  was  sedulously  conversing  with  Besme. 
Guise,  regarding  the  gesture  as  one  of  indifference, 


22  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

arose  ceremoniously.  As  he  did  so  a  step  was  heard 
in  the  corridor,  and  almost  at  the  same  moment  the 
voice  of  one  of  Guise's  gentlemen  below  the  win- 
dow. Besme  darted  to  the  window,  and  Antoinette 
to  the  door. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Besme,  in  a  loud 
whisper. 

"The  guard  is  out  and  we  are  about  to  be  sur- 
rounded," replied  the  gentleman  below ;  "  come  down 
at  once,  for  the  love  of  Heaven  !  " 

At  that  moment  began  a  loud  knocking  at  the 
door,  and  above  the  noise  could  be  distinguished 
the  piping  voice  of  the  old  Marquis  de  Me"zieres 
demanding  admittance. 

The  duke  glanced  anxiously  at  Victoire.  "And 
this  is  your  final  decision?"  he  asked,  gloomily. 

"  Mon  Dieu,  yes !  You  must  fly  at  once.  Your 
life  is  in  danger." 

"  She  is  right,  Monseigneur,"  said  Besme,  who  had 
overheard  her  last  words.  "  It  would  be  madness  for 
you  to  stay."  He  was  evidently  impatient  to  go. 

Guise  stubbornly  appealed  again  to  Victoire. 

"  Go,  if  you  love  me!  "  she  commanded,  trembling 
with  fright 

Guise  knelt  reluctantly  and  kissed  her  hand.  "  God 
knows  I  love  you !  "  he  muttered.  Then  he  turned 
petulantly  and  descended  the  ladder,  which  Besme 
had  already  lowered.  The  German  followed  at  once 
and  drew  down  the  ladder,  when  Antoinette  had  un- 
fastened it  above. 


II 

A  SURPRISE  AND  A  SWORDSMAN 

ON  reaching  the  ground  Guise  found  his  four 
gentlemen  awaiting  him  with  great  impatience. 

"  Monseigneur,"  cried  the  one  that  had  given 
warning,  "  make  haste  for  your  life !  The  guard  is 
assembling  and  in  a  moment  will  be  at  our  heels." 

"Where  are  the  horses?  "  asked  Besme. 

"  Here,"  replied  the  gentleman,  leading  that  of  the 
duke  out  of  a  neighboring  shadow. 

The  duke  mounted,  and  his  example  was  at  once 
followed  by  the  others,  all  of  whom  were  anxiously 
looking  toward  the  quarters  of  the  guard,  where 
moving  lights  and  the  sound  of  voices  and  footsteps 
betokened  some  unusual  activity. 

Guise,  seeing  no  armed  men  in  the  park  other 
than  his  own,  deprecated  the  others'  alarm. 

"  Diable,  Messieurs !  "  he  said,  contemptuously,  "  it 
seems  we  are  flying  on  the  slightest  provocation 
to-night.  We  are  in  no  imminent  peril,  I  believe. 
For  half  a  word,"  he  added  to  himself,  "I  would 
return  to  Victoire  and  remain  until  there  was  real 
danger." 

However,  hearing  above  the  high  voice  of  the 
marquis,  he  decided  to  ride  on  with  his  men.  Angry 
at  thus  having  his  rendezvous  disturbed  at  so  impor- 


24  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

tant  a  moment,  he  felt  that  a  sharp  encounter  with 
the  marquis's  men-at-arms  would  be  a  not  unpleasant 
relief.  No  one  had  been  seen  leaving  the  guard's 
quarters,  and  he  turned  despairingly,  swearing  softly 
to  himself,  to  take  up  his  way  to  Paris.  His  gentle- 
men were  disposed  to  make  all  possible  haste,  but 
he  rode  slowly  and  sullenly  toward  the  gate,  and 
they  were  constrained  to  follow  at  a  no  more  rapid 
pace.  Victoire's  remark  about  the  cardinal's  ambi- 
tion had  set  him  thinking. 

"  Brother  to  the  king !  "  he  muttered,  half-audibly. 
"  Why  not  more  than  brother ?  Why  not  king?  At 
any  rate,  by  God's  death,  this  woman  shall  not 
always  elude  me  !  " 

He  looked  cautiously  around  him  to  see  if  any  one 
might  have  overheard. 

"  How  my  reverie  would  please  M.  le  Cardinal  de 
Lorraine !  "  he  thought ;  "  he  would  call  me  a  true 
son  of  the  house  of  Guise,  and  forgive  the  former 
lack  of  pride  with  which  he  reproached  me." 

As  Guise,  thus  wrapped  in  meditation,  his  left 
hand  caressing  his  chin,  rode  slowly  down  the 
avenue  that  led  to  the  gate,  he  failed  to  notice  that 
the  latter  had  been  closed  and  bolted  since  he  and 
his  gentlemen  had  entered  the  park.  Besme,  riding 
up  to  him,  attracted  his  attention  to  this  ominous 
fact.  One  of  the  gentlemen  dismounted  and,  on 
examining  the  fastenings  of  the  gate,  found  that  it 
would  not  budge. 

"  Is  there  no  other  exit?"  demanded  Guise. 

"  There  is,  Monseigneur,"  answered  Besme  ;  "  it  is 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  park,  and  to  reach  it 


A  SURPRISE  AND  A   SWORDSMAN  2$ 

we  should  have  to  pass  the  quarters  of  the  guard. 
Moreover,  we  should  doubtless  find  the  other  gate 
fastened  exactly  as  is  this  one,  and  we  should  have 
only  our  ride  for  our  trouble." 

"Nevertheless,  we  cannot  open  this  one,  so  we 
may  as  well  try  the  other." 

"  Monseigneur,"  said  Besme,  anxiously,  "  let  me 
implore  you  not  to  do  so  rash  a  thing.  We  should 
undoubtedly  bring  the  guard  down  on  us,  and,  al- 
though there  are  none  readier  to  fight  for  you  than 
those  you  see  about  you,  we  should  be  greatly  out- 
numbered and  eventually  overpowered." 

"  And  what  would  you  have  me  do,  Besme  ? " 
asked  the  duke,  ironically.  "  Leave  my  horse,  scale 
the  wall,  and  run  for  my  life?"  Then  he  added 
sternly,  turning  to  the  others,  "  Right  about,  Mes- 
sieurs; we  are  going  to  see  whether  M.  de  M^zieres 
has  closed  all  his  gates." 

The  gentlemen,  who  had  expected  first  a  repri- 
mand for  having  allowed  the  gate  to  be  closed  with- 
out their  knowledge,  turned  reluctantly,  feeling  with 
Besme  that  such  a  course  was  the  height  of  mad- 
ness. This  time  their  leader  put  spurs  to  his  horse 
and  led  them  at  a  merry  pace  back  along  the 
avenue  that  followed  the  irregularities  of  the  cha- 
teau's fagade. 

As  they  approached  the  quarters  of  the  guard  the 
commotion  within  seemed  to  increase.  Guise,  begin- 
ning to  foresee  trouble,  halted  suddenly,  and  his  men 
drew  up  around  him. 

"  If  we  are  attacked,"  he  said,  calmly,  "  there  is 
but  one  course  for  us:  we  must  charge  them  as 


26  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

they  leave  their  quarters  and  fight  our  way  to  the 
other  gate,  the  location  of  which  is  known  to  Besme, 
who  will  lead.  Draw  swords,  Messieurs,  and  let  us 
give  these  rascals  a  taste  of  steel !  " 

With  that  he  turned  and  drove  the  spurs  into  his 
horse,  which  plunged  forward  followed  by  the  others 
of  the  little  troop.  Greatly  to  the  surprise  of  all, 
however,  on  reaching  the  quarters  of  the  guard  they 
found  that  building  deserted  and  dark.  Some  paces 
ahead  Besme,  whose  eyes  were  keenest  in  time  of 
danger,  thought  he  saw  armed  cavaliers.  This  belief 
was  verified  when,  a  moment  later,  they  came  on 
ten  mounted  guardsmen,  each  armed  with  sword  and 
arquebus.  Fortunately  for  Guise  and  his  followers, 
the  matches  in  these  latter  weapons  had  not  been 
lighted,  and  on  being  suddenly  attacked  from  the 
rear,  the  marquis's  guards,  taken  quite  by  surprise, 
after  ineffectual  efforts  to  fire  their  useless  weapons, 
threw  them  down  and  drew  their  swords.  In  the 
meantime,  however,  Besme,  taking  advantage  of  their 
helplessness,  had  rushed  fiercely  on  the  astonished 
foe  and  had  disabled  two  of  the  most  unprepared. 
The  other  gentlemen,  led  by  Guise,  began  such  a 
cutting  and  slashing  as  had  not  occurred  near  the 
old  chateau  in  many  a  day.  It  was  quickly  demon- 
strated that  the  guardsmen  were  no  matches  at 
sword-play  for  the  duke  and  his  companions.  In- 
deed, Guise  exclaimed  in  the  thick  of  the  combat, 
"  Why,  these  are  very  plow-boys  that  M.  le  Marquis 
employs  as  guardsmen  !  " 

Still,  plow-boys  or  not,  they  possessed  sufficient 
courage  to  enable  them  to  stand  for  some  minutes 


A   SURPRISE  AND  A   SWORDSMAN  2J 

against  the  bewildering  shower  of  blows  that  rained 
on  them  from  the  rapiers  of  the  duke  and  his  gentle- 
men. Guise,  when  he  first  arrived  on  the  scene,  had 
attacked  the  nearest  guardsman,  a  sturdy  yokel,  who 
dropped  his  arquebus  and  prepared  to  receive  the 
onslaught  sword  in  hand.  The  second  thrust  of  the 
duke's  sword,  however,  ran  the  guardsman  through 
to  the  hilt.  Meanwhile  Besme  had  disabled  his  two, 
and  two  others  of  Guise's  men  were  finishing  their 
antagonists  with  ease.  A  fourth  of  the  duke's  men 
was  less  fortunate,  having  received  an  ugly  cut  in  the 
cheek  and  a  thrust  in  the  shoulder  that  deprived  him 
of  further  use  of  his  sword-arm.  This  left  the  con- 
test evenly  divided,  with  five  men  on  each  side,  who 
lost  no  time  in  choosing  each  an  antagonist  and  in 
fighting  with  enthusiasm.  The  new  adversary  of  the 
Due  de  Guise  was  the  guardsman  that  had  just  dis- 
abled one  of  the  latter's  men.  The  duke  had  experi- 
enced so  little  difficulty  in  finishing  his  first  opponent 
that  he  was  immeasurably  surprised  to  find  his  second 
adversary  a  swordsman  of  extraordinary  skill.  In- 
deed, the  duke,  who  had  begun  a  sharp  attack,  in 
a  few  moments  found  himself  on  the  defensive  and 
wondering  how  soon  his  antagonist  would  tire  him 
and  run  him  through.  The  latter,  who  was  in 
stature  the  duke's  equal,  and  possessed  of  more 
powerful  shoulders  and  wrists,  fenced  with  such  calm 
assurance  and  skill  that  the  young  man  had  cause  to 
be  sensibly  alarmed.  Guise  summoned  his  strength 
for  a  decisive  attack,  however,  hoping  that  in  a 
moment,  should  this  man  prove  more  than  his  equal, 
some  of  the  others  would  have  finished  their  oppo- 


28  A   PARFIT  GENTIL   KNIGHT 

nents  and  would  come  to  his  assistance.  He  was 
very  disagreeably  surprised  a  few  seconds  later,  to 
feel  his  sword  wrenched  from  his  grasp  and  to  see 
it  whirl  away  some  distance.  Singularly  enough,  its 
point  lodged  firmly  in  a  neighboring  tree-trunk,  where 
it  vibrated  for  several  seconds.  Guise,  whose  physi- 
cal activity  was  not  less  than  that  of  his  mind,  in- 
stantly wheeled  his  horse  and  galloped  toward  the 
tree,  his  antagonist  in  hot- pursuit.  The  duke  arrived 
first,  seized  his  sword,  and,  turning  sharply,  greeted 
his  rival  with  a  bland  smile. 

"  I  am  sorry,  M.  le  Due,"  said  the  latter,  in  the 
most  courteous  tone,  "  that  you  did  not  permit  me 
to  present  you  your  sword." 

"  I  make  it  a  point  rarely  to  wait  on  ceremony 
when  fighting  guardsmen,"  replied  Guise,  through 
his  teeth.  The  other  nonchalantly  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  as  they  resumed  the  engagement. 

To  the  present  moment  the  duke's  adversary  had 
remained  more  or  less  in  the  shadow,  his  features 
concealed  by  the  brim  of  a  wide  hat.  Now  they 
had  so  changed  position  that  the  moonlight  fell  full 
on  the  stranger's  face,  and  Guise  had  an  opportunity 
to  study  its  noble  features,  as  their  crossed  swords 
flashed  and  rang.  It  was  the  face  of  no  plow-boy 
that  the  young  man  saw,  but  that  of  a  man  of  evident 
breeding  and  gentility.  The  broad,  open  brow,  over 
which  hung  stray  brown  curls,  was  seconded  in  its 
expression  of  honesty  and  intelligence  by  a  deter- 
mined chin,  deep,  penetrating  gray  eyes,  and  a  rather 
large  nose,  the  delicate  nostrils  of  which  quivered 
sensitively  as  the  sparks  flew  from  the  ringing  steel. 


A   SURPRISE  AND  A   SWORDSMAN  2$ 

The  hand  that  guided  the  darting  rapier  was  no  less 
that  of  a  gentleman  than  were  the  features  of  that 
striking  face.  It  was  a  white,  blue-veined,  slender 
hand  whose  only  labor,  one  could  swear,  had  been 
that  of  the  swordsman. 

That  it  was  a  skilful  hand,  Guise  was  well  satisfied ; 
there  was  scarcely  a  swordsman  in  the  court  of  France 
that  could  have  whisked  away  the  young  duke's 
rapier  with  such  apparent  ease.  Moreover,  the  voice 
and  tone  were  those  of  a  gentleman  that  had  desired 
merely  to  perform  an  ordinary  act  of  courtesy  and 
that  had  been  disappointed. 

The  stranger  energetically  engaged  the  duke,  and 
the  combat  continued  as  fierce  as  it  had  been  in  the 
beginning.  To  Guise's  mortal  chagrin  he  again  lost 
his  weapon,  which  was  dexterously  wrenched  away 
with  the  same  evident  ease.  This  time  it  fell  on  the 
ground  immediately  behind  the  skilful  stranger's 
horse.  Guise  saw  at  once  that  there  was  no  chance 
of  his  recovering  it  for  himself,  and  he  folded  his 
arms  and  awaited  calmly  what  a  perverse  fate  might 
have  in  store  for  him.  It  may  be  imagined  with 
what  feelings  of  wonder  and  gratitude  he  received  the 
sword  from  his  adversary,  hilt  first.  The  guardsman, 
on  twisting  away  the  duke's  weapon,  had,  with  no 
less  skill,  dismounted,  recovered  it,  and  presented  it 
to  its  astonished  owner. 

"  With  my  compliments  on  your  fencing,  Mon- 
sieur," said  the  more  skilful  swordsman,  at  once 
remounting  and  preparing  to  resume  the  engagement. 

Guise  bit  his  lip.  It  was  quite  evident  that  this 
man  was  only  playing  with  him,  that  he  was  entirely 


30  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

at  the  mercy  of  the  marquis's  guardsman.  Besides, 
the  stranger  had  just  taught  him  a  lesson  in  courtesy 
such  as  his  pride  could  ill  bear.  Seeing  all  his 
followers  still  busily  engaged,  Guise,  with  a  heavy 
heart,  set  to  his  hopeless  task  again,  and  he  was  only 
angered  the  more  to  find  that  now  his  adversary 
fenced  indifferently,  although  on  the  defensive,  and 
permitted  him  not  the  slightest  advantage. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  the  ring  of  approach- 
ing hoofs  was  heard  and,  glancing  hastily  over  his 
shoulder,  Guise  perceived  that  a  fresh  body  of  the 
marquis's  guards  were  about  to  attack  them.  These 
men  had  been  stationed  just  without  the  principal 
gate,  in  the  hope  of  preventing  the  retreat  of  Guise 
and  his  men  should  they  attempt  to  escape  by  scaling 
the  wall.  The  sound  of  the  conflict  in  the  rear  of 
the  chateau  having  reached  them,  they  hastily  un- 
barred the  gate,  which  they  had  fastened  from  the 
outside,  and  rushed  to  the  assistance  of  their  com- 
rades, just  as  Guise  was  engaging  his  expert  adversary 
for  the  third  time.  Divining  that  the  gate  must  have 
been  left  open  behind  them,  Besme,  who  had  found 
his  third  man  quite  his  equal,  managed  by  retreating 
slowly  to  draw  up  beside  his  master. 

"  Let  us  retire,  fighting,  to  the  gate,"  he  whispered. 

"  Good !  "  answered  the  duke,  whose  quick  per- 
ception saw  the  wisdom  of  this  advice ;  "  tell  the 
others." 

This  Besme  contrived  to  do  in  the  same  manner  as 
he  had  spoken  to  the  duke,  and  immediately,  having 
by  a  clever  manoeuvre  placed  themselves  between  the 
re-enforced  guard  and  the  gate,  Guise  and  his  men, 


A   SURPRISE  AND  A   SWORDSMAN  31 

still  fighting  valiantly,  now  one  against  two,  backed 
their  horses,  inch  by  inch,  toward  their  sole  hope  of 
escape.  However,  the  distance  was  too  great  for 
them  to  traverse  at  such  odds,  and  by  the  time  the 
group  of  combatants  were  well  in  front  of  the  chateau, 
two  of  the  duke's  men  were  practically  disabled,  and 
the  remaining  three,  now  exhausted,  found  themselves 
hard  pressed  by  ten,  half  of  whom  were  fresh. 

"  It  is  useless,"  panted  Besme ;  "  we  may  as  well 
yield." 

"  M.  de  Besme,"  replied  the  duke,  haughtily,  "  the 
Due  de  Guise  never  yields !  " 

At  these  words  the  young  man's  antagonist  dropped 
his  point,  crying,  "  M.  le  Due,  I  cannot  permit  so 
brave  a  gentleman  to  fight  at  so  unfair  an  advantage.'' 

Then,  turning  to  his  men,  he  singled  out  five  of  the 
better  swordsmen  and  commanded  them  to  retire. 

Scarcely  had  the  swords  resumed  their  play  after 
this  brief  interval  when  a  window  on  a  balcony  above 
opened,  and  an  old  man,  clad  only  in  a  dressing- 
gown  and  slippers,  appeared.  It  was  the  Marquis 
de  Mezieres.  His  high  voice  rang  out  sharply  above 
the  clashing  of  the  steel.  At  his  first  words  the 
guardsmen  withdrew  from  the  fray,  leaving  the  gentle- 
men of  the  duke  well-nigh  exhausted,  and  astonished 
at  this  sudden  and  timely  interruption. 

"  M.  de  la  Tour  d'lvoire,"  said  the  old  man,  dryly, 
"  you  may  discontinue  your  fencing  down  there  and 
permit  your  adversaries  to  withdraw." 

The  marquis  at  once  re-entered  the  house  and 
closed  the  window.  The  duke's  recent  antagonist, 
who  had  just  been  addressed  as  La  Tour  d'lvoire, 


32  A   PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

turned  to  the  young  man  and,  removing  his  plumed 
hat,  bowed  deferentially. 

"  Au  revoir,  Monsieur,"  he  said,  lightly,  and,  wheel- 
ing his  horse,  rode  off  toward  the  quarters  of  the 
guard,  followed  by  the  others. 

The  duke  and  his  men,  in  utter  amazement,  glanced 
from  the  retreating  guardsmen  to  the  balcony  above. 
Another  figure  had  just  appeared  there.  It  was 
Victoire  de  Mezieres. 

"  Laurels  for  the  brave !  "  she  cried,  laughingly, 
and  tossed  down  a  nosegay,  which  Guise  dexterously 
caught  and  gallantly  pressed  to  his  lips. 

"You  are  unharmed,  are  you,  Monsieur?"  asked 
Victoire,  with  a  note  of  anxiety  in  her  voice. 

"  I  am  indeed  so,  thanks  to  your  sweet  services, 
Mademoiselle,"  he  replied.  Then  he  added  lightly, 
"  In  proof  of  which  I  shall  return  with  renewed 
strength  within  the  week." 

With  that  he  wheeled  his  horse  and  galloped  off 
down  the  avenue,  followed  by  his  exhausted  men. 


Ill 

A  CAPITULATION  AND  A  MESSAGE 

TT  will  be  remembered  that,  as  the  Due  de  Guise 
•*•  left  the  chamber  of  Victoire  de  Mezieres,  the  old 
marquis  was  engaged  in  the  noisy  occupation  of  rain- 
ing blows  on  the  door  of  his  daughter's  room,  and 
that  his  shrill  voice  demanded  his  immediate  ad- 
mittance. As  soon,  therefore,  as  Guise  had  effected 
his  departure,  Victoire  hastily  placed  herself,  dressed 
as  she  was,  beneath  the  covers  of  her  great  canopied 
bed,  drew  the  curtains  around  her,  and  called  out 
in  a  voice  of  well  feigned  surprise  and  sleepiness, 
"Who  is  there?" 

"  I,  your  father !  "  shouted  the  enraged  marquis, 
his  voice  ascending  in  a  shrill  crescendo ;  "  I  demand 
to  be  admitted  at  once." 

"  But,  father,  I  have  retired,"  expostulated  Vic- 
toire; "why  must  I  be  disturbed  at  this  unseemly 
hour?  Is  it  possible  you  are  not  well?  Open, 
Anne,  and  keep  a  straight  face,  as  you  love  me !  " 
she  whispered  to  the  maid,  who  in  the  meantime  had 
donned  a  night-robe  over  her  dress. 

Antoinette  cautiously  unlocked  the  door,  opened 
it  about  half  an  inch,  and  peeped  out. 

"  M.  le  Marquis,"  she  said,  with  feigned  timidity, 
"  I  beg  of  you  to  permit  me  to  retire  behind  the 

3 


34  ^  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

curtains  before  you  enter.  This  unexpected  honor 
has  found  me  in  no  seemly  apparel  for  receiving 
your  lordship." 

Then,  closing  the  door  with  a  bang,  she  burst  into 
such  a  fit  of  half-smothered  laughter  that  Victoire 
was  compelled  to  leap  out  of  bed  to  ascertain  the 
cause. 

"  I  will  not  wait  another  second,"  came  the  shrill 
voice  from  without ;  Victoire  and  Antoinette  sought 
refuge  beneath  the  bedclothes. 

"Enter,  Monsieur,"  commanded  the  former,  in  a 
voice  of  injured  dignity. 

The  marquis  abruptly  pushed  open  the  door  and 
appeared,  candle  in  hand,  outlined  against  the  black- 
ness of  the  corridor. 

"Now,  where  is  the  Due  de  Guise?  "  he  demanded, 
his  voice  piping  in  a  tremolo  of  suppressed  wrath. 

The  cause  of  Antoinette's  hilarity  now  became 
apparent.  M.  le  Marquis  de  M6zieres  may  have 
been  a  very  majestic  figure,  arrayed  in  court  cos- 
tume, but  attired  in  a  dressing-gown,  absurdly  lack- 
ing in  length,  and  a  night-cap,  the  tassel  of  which 
bobbed  exasperatingly  before  the  wearer's  thin  face, 
he  was  certainly  an  apparition  to  excite  the  risibili- 
ties of  a  less  humorous  individual  than  Victoire's 
maid.  His  thin  shanks  protruded  fragilely  below, 
and  his  lantern-jaw  moved  convulsively  up  and  down 
on  its  hinge,  alternately  displaying  and  concealing 
the  toothless  gums.  The  marquis  was  evidently 
laboring  under  great  excitement,  for  the  veins  in  his 
irregular  forehead  stood  out  in  tense  relief,  throb- 
bing furiously,  and  great  beads  of  perspiration,  the 


A    CAPITULATION  AND  A   MESSAGE  35 

results  of  his  recent  violent  exercise  at  the  door, 
rolled  down  his  purple  face. 

On  entering  the  chamber  he  waved  his  candle 
grotesquely  above  his  head  and  peered  into  the 
shadows  as  if  searching  for  any  one  they  might 
conceal.  He  repeated  his  demand  concerning  the 
duke. 

"  I  think,  Monsieur,"  said  Victoire,  "  that  you  must 
be  very  ill  to  forget  yourself  thus.  You  know  very 
well  that  the  Due  de  Guise  is  anywhere  rather  than 
in  your  daughter's  apartment." 

The  old  man  burst  into  a  torrent  of  reproaches. 

"  I  want  none  of  your  denials,  jade,"  he  cried ;  "  I 
know  well  enough  that  the  man  is  here  or  has  been. 
At  any  rate,"  he  continued,  in  his  irritating  quaver, 
smiling  evilly,  "  wherever  he  is,  the  guard  will  make 
short  work  with  him." 

"You  have  not  called  out  the  guard,  have  you, 
father?"  asked  Victoire,  her  voice  trembling  with 
apprehension  aroused  by  that  ominous  smile. 

"  Surely,  you  fear  nothing,"  he  replied,  wickedly, 
"  since  M.  de  Guise  should  be  anywhere  rather  than 
here." 

Victoire  shuddered  with  fright.  She  knew  her 
father  vindictive  enough  to  stop  at  nothing  in  the 
expression  of  his  recently  conceived  hatred  for  the 
Due  de  Guise  and  his  house. 

"Father,"  she  faltered,  "you  are  not  going  to 
show  violence  to  the  duke,  I  trust.  Think  of  the 
consequences  of  such  an  act !  M.  de  Guise  is  the 
greatest  prince  in  France." 

"Am  I  not  in  my  own  house?"  cried  the  old  man, 


36  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

with  rage.  "  I  will  have  you  know  the  king  is  with 
me  against  the  Due  de  Guise  and  his  evil  doings.  Is 
your  lover,  then,  a  greater  prince  than  he  ? "  The 
word  "  lover "  was  accompanied  by  a  most  insin- 
uating sneer. 

"  Monsieur,"  cried  Victoire,  with  dignity,  "  remem- 
ber that  it  is  to  a  woman  and  your  daughter  that  you 
are  speaking !  " 

By  this  time  the  old  man's  face  had  changed  with 
rage  from  a  deep  purple  to  a  livid  pallor. 

"  Daughter  or  no,"  he  fairly  shrieked,  "  there  shall 
be  no  more  mad  pranks  with  harebrained  young  fops. 
This  prince  of  yours  may  look  to  his  head  before  he 
leaves  this  place  !  "  and  he  stalked  angrily  out  of  the 
room. 

Victoire  could  scarcely  refrain  from  laughing  at 
this  ludicrous  retreat,  regardless  of  the  danger  in 
which  she  felt  the  Due  de  Guise  was  placed.  She 
reflected  that  the  young  man,  though  brave  to  reck- 
lessness, would  have  but  poor  chances  against  the 
superior  numbers  of  her  father's  guard.  With  a 
sudden  resolution  she  jumped  out  of  bed  and  ran 
after  the  marquis. 

"  Father,"  she  implored,  seizing  him  by  the  hand, 
"  have  mercy,  I  pray  you !  M.  de  Guise  has  just 
been  here  and  he  will  be  cut  to  pieces !  Call  away 
your  guard  and  I  will  promise  you  —  anything  !  " 

The  marquis  wheeled  about  and  roughly  seized  his 
daughter  by  the  shoulder.  "  Do  you  mean  that, 
wench?"  he  cried,  scowling  down  at  her  in  distrust. 

"  Anything,  father,"  she  answered,  weakly. 

"  Very  well,"  cried  the  old  man,  "  swear  to  me  that 


A   CAPITULATION  AND  A  MESSAGE  37 

you  will  make  no  further  objections  to  the  marriage 
that  the  king  and  I  have  arranged  for  you."  The 
arrogance  of  the  emphasis  on  the  word  "king"  was 
unsurpassed. 

"  Father,  anything  but  that !  "  she  implored. 

The  marquis  turned  and  pattered  off  down  the 
corridor,  his  feet  sliding  about  in  his  great  list  slippers, 
which  slapped  the  floor  comically  at  every  step. 

"  I  swear !  "  Victoire  called  after  him,  and  he  halted 
with  a  grimace  of  satisfaction. 

"  It  is  time,"  he  said,  dryly.  "  The  guard  will  be 
withdrawn." 

Victoire  returned  to  her  chamber,  scarce  knowing 
whether  to  laugh  or  to  cry.  The  promise  to  her 
father  was  of  little  consequence,  as  the  wedding  with 
the  Prince  de  Montpensier  had  been  decided  on  for 
some  days  and  her  resistance  could  have  only  a 
nominal  effect.  Her  father's  appearance  had  been 
amusing  enough  to  suggest  the  former  alternative, 
but  she  remembered  that  the  duke  was  not  yet  out 
of  danger,  and  decided  to  do  neither  prematurely. 

It  was  only  then  that  the  sound  of  fighting  burst 
on  the  women's  ears,  Guise  and  his  gentlemen  hav- 
ing retreated  some  distance  toward  the  gate. 

Victoire  thrust  her  head  out  of  the  window  and, 
seeing  the  evident  peril  that  menaced  her  lover,  she 
ran  for  her  father,  who  was  re-approaching  down  the 
corridor,  and  literally  dragged  the  old  man,  puffing 
and  gasping  for  breath,  into  the  chamber  that  opened 
on  the  balcony.  Seeing  Guise  still  uninjured  she 
rushed  back  to  her  own  apartment  to  reassure 
Antoinette.  There  she  noticed  a  nosegay  that  some 


38  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  K AUGHT 

admirer  in  her  father's  guard  had  sent  her,  and  which, 
on  returning  to  the  balcony,  she  tossed  to  the  duke, 
saying,  "  Laurels  for  the  brave  !  " 

Guise's  declaration  that  he  would  return  within  the 
week,  uttered  as  it  was  within  the  hearing  of  the 
marquis,  kept  repeating  itself  in  Victoire's  mind.  She 
knew  that  the  duke  was  a  man  whose  word,  no  matter 
how  lightly  given,  was  generally  kept,  especially 
where  foolhardy  recklessness  was  concerned.  What 
if  he  really  should  attempt  to  return  as  he  had 
threatened  ? 

"  Was  M.  de  Besme  unharmed  ? "  asked  Antoinette, 
when  Victoire  had  told  her  of  tossing  the  nosegay  to 
Guise. 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,  Anne ;  he  rode  away  spiritedly 
with  M.  de  Guise.  By  the  way,  what  were  you  two 
conversing  about  so  earnestly?" 

"Whom  do  you  imagine?"  asked  Antoinette. 
"  None  other  than  the  Prince  de  Montpensier." 

"  So  you  have  been  learning  about  my  future  hus- 
band, have  you?  I  will  confess  I  have  not  had  so 
much  curiosity.  Well,  what  is  he  like?" 

"  M.  le  Prince,  as  far  as  I  could  learn  from  Besme, 
is  a  man  of  slight  attractions.  He  is  neither  tall  nor 
handsome,  witty  nor  learned,  gracious  nor  interesting. 
For  the  remainder,  he  is  brave  enough,  no  mean 
soldier,  and  is  completely  wrapped  up  in  another 
man  —  " 

"  So  much  the  better !  "  interrupted  Victoire,  with 
a  sigh.  "  And  who  is  this  other  man? " 

"  The  Comte  de  Chabanes,  a  man  of  no  estates 
worth  mentioning  and  who  is  at  present  in  disfavor 


A    CAPITULATION  AND  A  MESSAGE  39 

with  the  queen-mother,  who  believes  him  to  be  in 
league  with  the  Prince  de  Conde  and  the  Amiral  de 
Coligny.  It  seems  that  the  prince  has  been  moving 
heaven  and  earth  at  court  to  convince  Catherine  de 
Medicis  that  the  count  is  a  strict  Catholic.  Besme 
has  heard  it  said  that  Chabanes  is  neither  Catholic 
nor  Huguenot,  but  that  he  possesses  peculiar  religious 
views  of  his  own.  At  any  rate  his  influence  over  the 
prince,  and  the  prince's  influence  at  court  are  both 
great,  and  it  is  almost  certain  that  the  count  will 
ultimately  be  reinstated  in  favor." 

"Where  is  he  now?"  asked  Victoire. 

"  A  warrant  having  been  issued  for  his  arrest  as  a 
Huguenot,  he  is  now  roaming  the  country  in  disguise ; 
for  he  is  of  an  adventurous  turn  of  mind  and  a  swords- 
man of  rare  skill  and  fond  of  brave  deeds.  The 
prince  himself  is  ignorant  of  the  count's  where- 
abouts." 

"And  what  more  of  the  prince?  Has  he  no 
adorers  at  court?" 

"  The  prince  is  not  a  man  well  suited  for  gallantry, 
and  he  bravely  ignores  the  queen-mother's  flying 
squadron  of  beauties.  Moreover,  since  his  recent 
quarrel  with  the  Due  de  Guise — " 

"  With  the  Due  de  Guise  !  " 

"  del,  yes ;  did  not  M.  de  Guise  tell  you  that  he 
had  incurred  the  prince's  deadly  hatred  by  demand- 
ing of  the  king,  in  your  fiance's  presence,  that  the 
marriage  with  the  Due  du  Maine  be  consummated  as 
had  formerly  been  agreed  ?  " 

"  Mad  boy !  "  exclaimed  Victoire,  half  to  herself. 
"  He  will  end  by  making  all  the  court  his  enemy. 


4O  A   PAR  FIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

And  perhaps  there  is  a  Providence  in  that,"  she 
thought.  "  M.  de  Guise  will  hardly  dare  be  too 
attentive  to  Mme.  de  Montpensier,  —  not,  at  least, 
when  her  husband  is  his  bitter  enemy." 

"What  else  did  M.  de  Guise  say  when  your  father 
called  off  the  guard  ?  "  asked  Antoinette,  after  a  short 
silence. 

"  That  he  would  return  within  the  week.  Anne,  I 
fear  the  duke's  rashness.  He  would  not  hesitate  to 
fulfil  that  threat.  He  might  bring  a  large  force  with 
him  and  besiege  the  chateau.  He  is  mad,  I  tell  you, 
and  would  stop  at  nothing." 

"  By  all  means,  Mademoiselle,  he  must  commit  no 
more  rash  deeds.  You  know  he  has  already  increased 
the  ill-will  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  bears  M.  le 
Marquis  and  all  the  Bourbons." 

"Is  there  no  way  to  get  word  to  him  before  he 
has  an  opportunity  to  put  into  action  any  of  his  wild 
plans?" 

"  I  know  of  none  —  unless  —  " 

"  Unless  what,  Anne  ?  " 

"  Unless  you  use  your  father's  remarkable  guards- 
man as  messenger.  Do  you  know  who  sent  you  the 
flowers  that  you  tossed  to  M.  de  Guise?" 

"You  know  I  do  not,  Anne,"  said  Victoire, 
impatiently. 

"  It  is  the  man  your  father  has  recently  made  cap- 
tain of  the  guard,  and  a  handsome  fellow  he  is,  to 
my  eye.  And  certain  it  is  that  he  has  conceived 
a  great  admiration  for  you.  Yesterday  I  saw  him 
stop  at  your  door  as  the  guard  was  changing  the 
watch,  and  when  I  arrived  I  found  this  nosegay  which 


A   CAPITULATION  AND  A  MESSAGE  41 

he  had  thrust  into  the  room.  He  is  far  superior  to 
the  yokels  that  compose  the  guard,  and  very  modest, 
for  when  M.  le  Marquis  offered  to  obtain  for  him  a 
captaincy  in  the  King's  Guard,  notwithstanding  he 
has  been  here  but  a  few  days,  he  politely  declined, 
saying  that  he  was  only  a  plain  soldier,  better  fitted  to 
obey  than  to  command.  And  he  said  it  all  with  such 
an  air  of  unconscious  superiority  that  M.  de  Mezieres 
gave  him  a  look  of  admiring  wonder  and  hobbled  off, 
shaking  his  head  and  mumbling  to  himself." 

"  But  whence  did  this  man  come?  " 

"No  one  knows;  he  is  not  at  all  communicative 
with  the  other  guardsmen,  though  they  have  all  begun 
to  worship  him.  His  manner  is  gentility  itself,  and 
his  courage  and  skill  are  said  to  be  extraordinary." 

"Very  well,  Anne,  let  us  find  this  remarkable 
guardsman;  in  the  meantime  I  will  write  a  note  to 
M.  de  Guise." 

Antoinette  at  once  arose  and  left  the  room,  and 
Victoire  seated  herself  at  a  table  and  began  to  write 
thoughtfully. 

"  M.  de  Guise,  as  he  values  them,  will  not  endan- 
ger his  own  life  and  the  honor  of  one  he  professes  to 
love,"  she  wrote.  As  Victoire  folded  the  note  she 
heard  footsteps  approaching  in  the  corridor.  She 
gave  a  coquettish  glance  at  her  image  in  the  mirror 
and  turned  with  a  satisfied  smile  as  the  door  opened. 
Antoinette  entered,  followed  by  a  tall  man  in  the 
uniform  of  the  marquis's  guard.  It  was  La  Tour 
d'lvoire,  the  skilful  antagonist  of  the  Due  de  Guise. 

Victoire's  first  feeling  on  scrutinizing  this  man 
was  one  of  disappointment.  Antoinette's  descrip- 


42  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

tion  had  led  her  to  expect  some  one  unusually  hand- 
some, whereas  the  guardsman  before  her  was,  to  her 
mind,  scarcely  more  than  plain.  It  was  true  that 
his  eye  was  clear  and  expressive  and  seemed  to 
take  in  all  things  at  a  single  glance,  that  his  fore- 
head was  high  and  smooth,  that  his  chin  was  square 
and  strong.  Also,  there  was  about  him  a  general 
air  of  frank  intelligence  and  shrewdness  combined 
with  the  most  courteous  respect.  Still,  he  was  not 
handsome.  At  least,  he  was  a  man  that  inspired 
confidence;  she  felt  that  from  the  first. 

The  guardsman  advanced  into  the  chamber  and 
bowed  with  the  grace  and  ease  that  belong  only 
to  the  highest  birth  and  breeding. 

"  Mademoiselle  has  honored  me  by  sending  for 
me,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  pleasing  voice ;  "  I  am  en- 
tirely at  her  service." 

"  Monsieur,"  replied  Victoire,  "  I  have  sent  for  a 
guardsman  to  do  me  an  errand ;  I  behold  a  gentle- 
man." 

"  Mademoiselle,  a  guardsman  permitted  to  do  you 
service  becomes  a  gentleman." 

Victoire  blushed  prettily  but  lost  none  of  her  self- 
possession.  "  Monsieur,  your  fortune  as  a  courtier 
would  be  assured,"  she  said ;  "  are  you  not  ashamed 
to  practise  your  flatteries  on  an  innocent  country 
maid  ?  " 

"We  guardsmen,  Mademoiselle,  are  not  much 
given  to  flattery." 

"True  enough,  Monsieur.  But  in  regard  to  the 
errand,  I  wish  to  send  this  note  to  Paris  at  once." 

"  I   shall  consider  the   favor  of  bearing  it   inesti- 


A    CAPITULATION  AND  A   MESSAGE  43 

mable,"  said  La  Tour  d'lvoire.  "  To  whom  am  I  to 
deliver  it?" 

"  To  the  Due  de  Guise.     Do  you  know  Paris?  " 

"  Sufficiently,  Mademoiselle.  M.  de  Guise  shall 
have  the  message  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Monsieur,  it  is  important  —  very  important  — 
that  the  duke  should  have  this  at  once.  I  beg  of 
you  to  deliver  it  to  none  but  himself.  Notes  are 
sometimes  lost,  Monsieur  —  " 

"  This  one  shall  not  be  lost,  Mademoiselle." 

"  If  it  be,  it  will  be  through  no  fault  of  yours,  I  am 
satisfied,  Monsieur." 

La  Tour  d'lvoire  bowed. 

"  Nevertheless,"  she  continued,  "  it  might  happen 
that  you  should  arrive  in  Paris  without  the  note. 
Therefore,  I  beg  of  you,  when  you .  have  left  us, 
read  the  note,  which  is  purposely  left  unsealed ;  and 
should  any  accident  deprive  you  of  it  before  you 
arrive  in  Paris  you  can  yourself  repeat  the  contents 
to  M.  de  Guise." 

The  guardsman,  having  taken  the  note,  turned  as 
though  to  go.  From  the  door  he  cast  a  hesitating 
look  at  Victoire,  which  she  misconstrued. 

"  As  to  the  money  you  will  need,  Monsieur  —  " 

He  interrupted  her  with  a  gesture.  "  I  beg  you 
not  to  give  it  a  thought,"  he  said,  with  a  strong  note 
of  almost  haughty  pride  in  his  voice.  "I  am  to-day 
leaving  the  service  of  M.  le  Marquis ;  as  I  shall  not 
return  —  " 

He  hesitated  and  Victoire  continued  to  misunder- 
stand him.  "Then  you  will  accept  nothing?"  she 
asked. 


44  *  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

The  guardsman  blushed  furiously,  but  his  self-con- 
trol returned  and,  with  an  alluring  smile,  he  said, 
"Yes,  Mademoiselle;  the  permission  to  kiss  your 
hand." 

Victoire  spontaneously  extended  her  hand,  and  he 
knelt  and  kissed  it.  Then  he  arose,  bowed,  and, 
smiling,  left  the  room. 

"  What  a  peculiar  guardsman !  "  exclaimed  Vic- 
toire, turning  to  her  maid.  "  Why,  Anne,  dear,  what 
is  the  matter?" 

Antoinette  had  thrown  herself  on  the  bed  and  was 
weeping  bitterly.  "  He  is  no  guardsman,  I  am  sure," 
she  sobbed.  "  I  would  give  my  life  for  a  word  from 
him,  and  he  will  not  even  vouchsafe  me  a  glance.  It 
is  because  I  am  only  a  maid  and  he  is  a  nobleman !  " 

"  Come,  my  dear,  dry  those  hysterical  tears  and  let 
us  to  bed.  Noblemen  are  not  in  the  habit  of  turning 
guardsmen,  these  days." 


IV 

A  HUGUENOT  AND  A  PRINCE 

/T"VHE  third  day  after  his  departure  from  Me^zieres, 
•••  toward  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  the  guards- 
man that  carried  Victoire's  message  turned  slowly 
into  the  Rue  du  Chaume  in  Paris.  He  had  accom- 
plished the  journey  without  incident,  but  his  horse,  a 
magnificent  coal-black  charger,  as  well  as  himself,  was 
jaded.  At  length  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction  he  drew 
rein  before  a  large  h6tel  and  dismounted.  The  Due 
de  Guise  was  just  leaving  the  h6tel,  which  was  his 
own  house,  and  he  and  the  guardsman  came  face  to 
face  at  the  gate. 

"  Diable  / "  said  the  duke,  "  my  adversary  of 
Mezieres !  "  and  he  courteously  returned  the  latter's 
polite  bow. 

"  Pardon,  M.  le  Due,"  said  the  guardsman,  "  I 
have  an  important  message  for  you." 

"  Monsieur,"  replied  the  duke,  "  is  doubtless 
fatigued.  It  is  no  easy  journey  that  he  has  made. 
I  myself  returned  but  an  hour  ago,  and  notwith- 
standing, I  am  going  to  start  back  over  that  same 
route  to-night." 

"Your  pardon,  again,"  said  the  messenger,  "but  I 
think  the  word  I  carry  will  save  you  the  fatigue  of 
that  journey."  He  drew  Victoire's  note  from  his 
doublet  and  presented  it  to  the  duke. 


46  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Guise  at  once  opened  and  read  the  tiny  billet. 
Then  he  turned  petulantly  to  the  guardsman  and, 
with  a  note  of  suspicion  in  his  voice,  demanded, 
"  Permit  me  to  ask,  Monsieur,  how  you  may  be  aware 
of  this  missive's  contents." 

"  Mile,  de  Mezieres  insisted  on  my  reading  the 
note,  so  that,  in  case  it  should  be  lost,  I  could  relate 
its  contents  to  yourself  on  my  arrival  in  Paris. 
Mademoiselle  pressed  me  to  do  this  because  the 
importance  of  the  message  coming  to  you  at  once 
was  supreme." 

Guise  was  satisfied  that  the  guardsman  was  speak- 
ing the  truth,  and,  turning  to  an  attendant,  he  said, 
"  Tell  M.  de  Besme  that  we  will  not  ride  to-night." 

The  attendant  hastened  away  smiling  broadly.  He 
was  one  of  the  men  whom  his  master  had  detailed  for 
his  proposed  expedition  to  Mezieres. 

"  Permit  me,  Monsieur,"  continued  Guise,  address- 
ing the  guardsman,  "  to  offer  you  my  hospitality. 
Your  horse  shall  be  cared  for  at  once,  and  perhaps 
you  yourself  may  feel  the  want  of  refreshment." 

The  duke  was  evidently  impressed  with  the  guards- 
man's quality,  for  he  addressed  him  with  the  greatest 
deference,  a  circumstance  that  was  noted  with  surprise 
by  the  gentlemen  present. 

"  I  thank  you,  Monsieur,"  replied  La  Tour  d'lvoire, 
whose  disdain  of  the  more  respectful  title,  "  Mon- 
seigneur,"  was  also  a  source  of  wonderment  to  Guise's 
gentlemen,  and  a  confirmation  of  the  duke's  belief 
that  this  guardsman  was  more  than  he  pretended  to 
be.  "  I  am  seeking  a  friend  in  Paris,  and  until  I  have 
found  him  I  will  not  rest.  As  for  Nero,  here," — he 


A   HUGUENOT  AND  A   PRINCE  47 

affectionately  patted  the  glistening  neck  of  his  hand- 
some horse,  —  "I  shall  soon  find  him  a  comfortable 
bed  and  an  ample  measure  of  oats." 

"  Perhaps  I  can  aid  you  in  your  search,"  Guise 
volunteered  graciously. 

"  I  am  seeking  the  Prince  de  Montpensier." 

"  Then,  Monsieur,  you  will  find  him  at  the  Louvre, 
whither  I  am  bound;  and  I  should  be  delighted  to 
have  you  accompany  me." 

"  I  thank  you,  Monsieur,  for  the  honor  your  invi- 
tation confers  on  me ;  but  I  —  it  is  hardly  meet  that 
the  Due  de  Guise  should  go  to  court  in  company  with 
a  simple  soldier  like  myself." 

"  A  very  brave  and  skilful  one,  Monsieur,"  said  the 
duke.  "  Besides,"  he  added,  approaching  the  guards- 
man so  that  he  might  not  be  overheard  by  the  others, 
"  you  are  no  *  simple  soldier  ' ;  do  you  think  I  do  not 
know  a  gentleman  when  I  see  one  ?  " 

His  words  were  accompanied  by  a  look  that  ex- 
pressed conviction.  The  guardsman  laughed  lightly, 
but  did  not  reply. 

"  M.  le  Due,  let  me  beg  of  you  to  proceed  without 
me,"  he  said,  after  a  moment's  hesitation.  "  My  rea- 
sons are  good.  And  if  you  will  instruct  me  as  to  how 
I  may  gain  entrance  to  the  Louvre  and  find  M.  de 
Montpensier,  I  shall  be  under  still  greater  obligations." 

"  Speak  my  name  to  the  sentry  at  the  gate.  I  will 
instruct  him  to  admit  you.  Once  inside  you  will  have 
no  difficulty  in  finding  M.  de  Montpensier,  who  is 
well  known.  I  should  not  advise  you,  though,"  the 
duke  added,  laughingly,  "  to  use  my  name  as  a  con- 
juring word  with  M.  le  Prince." 


48  A  PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

"  In  that  case,"  returned  the  guardsman,  quickly, 
"  it  would  seem  that  the  prince  and  yourself  are  not 
on  amicable  terms.  Is  my  inference  at  fault  ?" 

"  You  have  divined  the  state  of  affairs." 

"  M.  de  Guise,"  said  La  Tour  d'lvoire,  simply,  "  the 
Prince  de  Montpensier  is  my  friend.  His  enemies 
must  always  be  my  own.  It  is  therefore  impossible 
that  I  should  accept  your  hospitality." 

Guise  colored  with  sudden  anger,  but  quickly 
regaining  his  self-control,  he  bowed  graciously,  say- 
ing, "  As  you  wish,  Monsieur,"  and  at  once  rode  off 
in  the  direction  of  the  Louvre,  followed  by  his  half- 
dozen  gentlemen. 

La  Tour  d'lvoire  calmly  mounted  his  horse,  which 
a  lackey  had  been  holding,  and  taking  a  direction 
opposed  to  that  in  which  the  Due  de  Guise  and  his 
gentlemen  had  just  disappeared,  he  rode  slowly  along 
the  Rue  du  Chaume.  After  a  few  moments  he 
wheeled  about  and  started  in  the  direction  of  the 
palace.  As  he  again  came  opposite  the  H6tel  de 
Guise  a  white  object  lying  in  the  street  attracted  his 
preoccupied  eye.  On  riding  close  to  the  object  he 
perceived  that  it  was  the  note  which  he  had  delivered 
to  the  duke  and  which  the  latter  had  evidently 
dropped  as  he  was  leaving  the  h6tel.  La  Tour 
d'lvoire  at  once  dismounted  and  recovered  the 
billet,  which  he  placed  in  his  doublet  as  he  re- 
directed his  horse  toward  the  Louvre. 

As  he  approached  the  palace  he  became  aware 
of  an  unusual  commotion  in  the  adjacent  Rue  des 
FosseVSaint-Germain.  An  old  man,  bent  and  feeble, 
had  been  surrounded  by  a  mixed  crowd  of  vagabonds 


A   HUGUENOT  AND  A   PRINCE  49 

and  botirgeotSy  who  were  torturing  their  helpless  vic- 
tim with  jeers  and  taunts.  For  some  time  these 
insults  had  been  borne  with  calm  and  dignified 
silence,  which  only  seemed  to  goad  the  tormentors 
to  increased  efforts,  when  suddenly  there  appeared 
on  the  scene  a  large,  heavy-browed  man,  who  added 
greatly  to  the  confusion  by  shouting  with  a  strong 
German  accent,  "Down  with  the  heretic  dog!"  and 
"  Death  to  the  Protestant !  "  and  inciting  the  others 
to  further  indignities.  "  Trip  the  old  Baptist ! "  he 
suggested  to  one,  and  to  another,  "  Slap  his  heretic 
jaws !  "  The  bourgeois^  artisans,  and  cut-purses  that 
composed  this  motley  assemblage  increased  their 
badgering,  each  new  insult  being  greeted  with  shouts 
of  approval.  Finally  the  German  thrust  himself 
through  the  crowd  and,  confronting  the  victim, 
deliberately  spat  in  his  face.  A  burst  of  brutal 
laughter  followed,  as  the  old  man  recoiled,  pale  with 
impotent  anger,  and  the  bully  turned  with  a  smile 
of  self-satisfaction  and  began  to  make  his  way  back 
through  the  admiring  crowd,  which  opened  to  let  him 
pass. 

At  the  same  moment  a  man  was  rapidly  making 
his  way  through  the  crowd  and  toward  the  German, 
from  an  opposite  direction.  Our  guardsman,  hav- 
ing been  attracted  by  the  noise,  had  ridden  up 
to  the  group,  arriving  just  in  time  to  witness  the 
cowardly  act  of  the  German,  whom  he  recognized 
as  the  follower  of  the  Due  de  Guise,  Besme.  A 
moment  had  sufficed  for  him  to  dismount  and  to 
press  his  way  through  the  crowd  till  he  came  face 
to  face  with  the  insulter  of  the  old  man.  The  Ger- 

4 


jo  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

man  felt  a  heavy  hand  on  his  collar  as  he  recognized 
the  powerful  swordsman  who  had  so  nearly  finished 
his  master  at  Mezieres.  At  sight  of  the  guards- 
man's wrathful  countenance  and  flashing  eye,  and 
remembering  with  what  extraordinary  skill  and  en- 
durance he  had  fought,  Besme  began  to  lose  color. 

"  Unhand  me,  Monsieur,"  he  stammered,  con- 
fusedly ;  "  by  what  right  do  you  lay  your  hand  on 
an  honest  gentleman?" 

"  Gentleman,  indeed !  "  sneered  the  guardsman,  his 
voice  full  of  righteous  indignation ;  "  none  but  the 
basest  clown  could  be  guilty  of  this  dastardly  trick." 

"  You  will  oblige  me  by  releasing  my  collar,  Mon- 
sieur," protested  Besme,  with  ill-assumed  courage. 

"And  you  will  oblige  me,"  was  the  retort,  the 
guardsman  still  retaining  a  firm  grasp  on  the  other's 
doublet,  "  by  immediately  and  humbly  apologizing 
to  this  old  man  that  you  have  so  grossly  insulted." 

"  Monsieur,  I  —  "  began  the  German,  now  red  with 
rage  and  almost  choked  by  the  guardsman's  power- 
ful grasp.  But  he  was  not  allowed  to  expostulate 
further.  La  Tour  d'lvoire  tightened  his  clutch  on 
the  sputtering  bully  and  proceeded,  without  further 
ceremony,  to  drag  him  to  the  feet  of  the  old  man. 
There  he  dropped  him  much  as  a  boy  drops  a 
scratching  kitten  that  he  has  been  carrying  at  arm's 
length  by  the  nape  of  the  neck.  Then  standing  over 
him  with  a  threatening  air,  he  commanded  him  to 
make  a  speedy  and  complete  apology. 

Besme,  now  thoroughly  cowed,  cast  an  appealing 
glance  at  the  group  of  spectators ;  then,  as  none 
seemed  disposed  to  assist  him,  he  discreetly,  but 


A  HUGUENOT  AND  A   PRINCE  51 

with  ill  enough  grace,  began  muttering  a  confused 
apology. 

The  guardsman,  satisfied  with  these  amends,  re- 
leased the  German  and  strode  away  through  the 
crowd,  which  sullenly  allowed  him  to  pass.  He  did 
not  even  wait  to  hear  the  thanks  the  old  man  was 
offering  him  in  a  quavering  voice,  crying  repeatedly, 
"  God's  blessing  on  you  for  a  Christian  gentleman, 
is  the  prayer  of  Maftre  Jonreau ! "  but  mounted  his 
horse  and  rode  off  toward  the  Louvre.  Scarcely 
was  he  beyond  hearing  distance  when  Besme,  whose 
narrow  eyes  wore  an  ominous  look,  began  upbraid- 
ing the  crowd  in  loud  tones. 

"  Ye  are  no  Catholics,"  he  cried,  "  to  allow  a  fellow- 
Christian  to  be  thus  mistreated  by  a  dog  of  a  heretic  ! 
M.  de  Guise  will  have  every  varlet  of  you  hanged 
when  he  hears  you  have  thus  tolerated  the  brutality 
of  a  Huguenot." 

"How  do  you  know  he  is  a  Huguenot?"  de- 
manded one  of  the  bourgeois. 

"Did  he  not  defend  yonder  old  hound?"  retorted 
Besme,  pointing  to  the  old  man,  who  had  been 
allowed  to  hobble  off  down  the  street  without 
further  hindrance. 

"True  enough,"  replied  the  questioner,  thought- 
fully. He  had  lost  sight  of  the  discussion's  cause 
in  the  excitement  that  followed  the  appearance  of 
the  guardsman.  Then,  turning  to  the  others,  he 
cried,  "  What  have  we  been  doing,  friends,  letting 
a  heretic  thus  abuse  a  Catholic?  After  him  and 
throw  him  into  the  river ! " 

The  uniform  of  the  guard  of  the  Marquis  de  Mezieres 


52  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

was  not  a  costume  to  excite  the  respect  of  the  rabble, 
and  these  words  reawakening  their  hatred  for  the 
Huguenots,  the  crowd,  feeling  that  here  was  a  chance 
for  further  argument,  with  one  accord  ran  after  the 
guardsman's  horse. 

When  they  had  gone  a  hundred  paces,  a  dozen 
men  dropped  behind.  These  quickly  collected  about 
the  German,  who  drew  them  into  a  neighboring  pas- 
sage and  addressed  them  with  many  muttered  curses. 

"  Perce-Bedaine,"  he  said,  sharply,  to  a  short,  bull- 
necked,  bandy-legged  man  of  very  evil  countenance, 
"  do  you  remember  that,  a  half-hour  ago,  I  was 
speaking  of  a  swordsman  that  I  had  encountered  the 
other  day  at  Mezieres?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Perce-Bedaine,  sullenly.  He  spoke 
with  a  decided  Gascon  accent. 

"Very  well,  you  have  just  witnessed  the  insult 
which  that  same  guardsman  has  offered  me." 

"  We  dared  not  interfere,"  growled  a  great  lumber- 
ing fellow  with  a  bullet-shaped  head  and  enormous 
hands.  In  his  voice  also  was  betrayed  a  Gascon 
birth. 

"  Doubtless,  Casse-Trogne,"  replied  Besme,  dryly. 
"  However,  it  is  not  of  that  that  I  wish  to  speak,  —  at 
least,  not  for  the  present.  I  merely  wish  to  announce 
that  I  have  sworn  a  solemn  oath  to  be  revenged  on 
this  Huguenot  guardsman." 

The  vagabonds  growled  their  inarticulate  approval, 
and,  casting  on  them  a  scowl  of  contempt,  the  German 
strode  quickly  away,  leaving  the  others  to  disperse  in 
every  direction. 

Shortly  after,  as  Besme  was  about  to  enter  the  gate 


A   HUGUENOT  AND  A   PRINCE  53 

at  the  H6tel  de  Guise  he  perceived  one  of  the  vaga- 
bonds approaching  rapidly.  Besme  saw  the  eager- 
ness depicted  on  his  minion's  countenance,  and 
paused. 

"  Well,  Maurevel,"  the  German  demanded ;  "  what 
news  ?  " 

"  The  Prince  de  Montpensier  received  him  with 
open  arms,"  said  Maurevel,  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  "  and 
arm  in  arm  they  went  off  toward  an  inn  near  the 
Louvre." 

"  M.  de  Montpensier !  "  exclaimed  Besme,  incredu- 
lously. Then,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  he  added, 
half  to  himself:  "  So  he  is  no  guardsman,  after  all ! 
Some  one  in  disguise  —  but  who  can  he  be  ?  Par  le 
sang  de  Diert,  it  is  the  exiled  count !  " 

At  a  sign  from  the  German,  Maurevel  disappeared 
down  a  side  street.  Besme  turned  into  the  H6tel  de 
Guise. 

"  Now  to  plan  my  revenge,"  he  muttered  to  him- 
self; "  for  it  shall  be  a  sweet  one." 

La  Tour  d'lvoire  was  near  the  entrance  to  the 
Louvre  when  the  crowd  overtook  him.  He  turned 
in  amazement  at  hearing  them  revile  him  as  a 
"  Protestant  dog ! "  The  crowd,  however,  did  not 
approach  very  near  to  this  man  that  had  just  ex- 
hibited his  strength  and  courage  in  so  striking  a 
manner.  They  contented  themselves  with  making 
such  a  hubbub  that  presently  a  squad  of  the  palace 
guards  appeared,  their  captain  demanding  the  cause 
of  so  much  noise.  Receiving  no  definite  response, 
he  addressed  himself  personally  to  the  cavalier. 

"  Monsieur,"  he  said,  "  if  you  are  a  Huguenot,  as 


54  *  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

these  people  say,  you  will  oblige  me  by  at  once  mov- 
ing on,  for  this  confusion  is  very  distasteful  to  us." 

"  Monsieur,"  replied  the  other,  "  as  you  are  attached 
to  the  palace,  you  will  oblige  me  by  at  once  sending 
one  of  your  men  to  M.  le  Prince  de  Montpensier  and 
.  informing  him  that  he  is  awaited  at  the  gates." 

At  the  sound  of  the  prince's  name  the  crowd  only 
hooted  the  louder. 

"  The  Prince  de  Montpensier ! "  they  cried,  de- 
risively. "  Do  you  think  he  would  associate  with  a 
heretic?" 

The  captain  of  the  guard  seemed  to  share  their 
opinion  in  this  respect  At  any  rate,  he  refused  flatly 
to  carry  any  such  message,  and  he  repeated  his  re- 
quest that  the  stranger  leave  the  gate.  The  latter 
dismounted  and  started  with  the  evident  intention  of 
gaining  access  to  the  palace  in  spite  of  populace  and 
guard.  Seeing  him  advance  with  a  determined  air, 
the  captain  commanded  his  men  to  resist  him,  and 
went  himself  to  meet  him. 

At  this  moment  some  gentlemen,  attracted  by  the 
commotion  without,  appeared  at  the  gate.  One  of 
them,  catching  sight  of  the  guardsman,  who  was  about 
to  be  attacked  by  the  captain,  rushed  forward  and 
seized  the  former  in  his  arms. 

"  Raoul !  "  he  cried,  tears  of  joy  glistening  in  his 
eyes,  "  I  have  found  you  at  last !  " 

The  other,  at  the  sight  of  this  young  man,  be- 
trayed an  equal  emotion.  "  I  was  beginning  to  fear, 
Charles,"  he  said,  "  that  I  should  not  find  you  before 
these  fellows  here  had  made  an  end  of  me." 

At  the  sight  of  this  youth,  who  was  the  Prince  de 


A   HUGUENOT  AND  A   PRINCE  55 

Montpensier,  showing  such  great  familiarity  with  a 
common  soldier,  the  crowd  and  the  guard  quickly 
changed  their  attitude  toward  the  latter,  and,  after 
gazing  for  a  few  moments  in  open-mouthed  wonder, 
began  to  slink  away.  The  people  felt  that  the  prince 
would  harbor  no  heretic,  and  the  soldiers  saw  that  this 
must  be  no  ordinary  guardsman. 

The  Prince  de  Montpensier,  eldest  son  of  the  Due 
de  Montpensier,  a  scion  of  the  house  of  Bourbon,  was 
a  young  man  of  average  stature  and  unusual  strength, 
and  pronouncedly  brunet.  His  eyes  were  black  and 
piercing,  though  nervous  and  changeable,  and  his 
crisp  hair  was  cut  short  over  a  low  forehead.  He 
had  thin,  sensitive  lips,  and  a  chin  the  sharpness 
of  which  was  accentuated  by  a  short,  pointed  beard. 
He  had  just  entered  on  his  military  career  and  gave 
great  promise  of  becoming  a  brilliant  soldier  and 
leader.  Indeed,  his  acquaintances  remarked,  he  was 
fortunate  in  his  martial  accomplishments,  for  he  had 
few  others,  being  blunt  and  plain  of  speech,  often 
irascible,  and  sensitive  to  extreme  diffidence.  He 
was  distrustful  of  all  men  save  this  friend  whom  he  had 
just  greeted  so  cordially,  and  in  whom,  as  is  often  the 
case  with  men  of  such  temperaments,  he  had  some 
time  since  placed  his  entire  confidence. 

Doubtless  it  is  safe  to  assume  that  the  reader  has 
divined  the  identity  of  this  guardsman  with  whom 
Montpensier  conversed  in  such  eager  tones.  The 
man  that  had  so  skilfully  fenced  with  the  Due  de 
Guise  at  Mezieres,  that  had  been  the  messenger  of 
Victoire,  and  that  had  just  rescued  the  old  Huguenot 
from  the  persecutions  of  the  German,  was  he  of  whom 


56  A  PAR  FIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Besme  had  spoken  to  Antoinette  as  the  soldier  of  for- 
tune and  dearest  friend  of  Montpensier,  —  Raoul  de 
la  Tour  d'lvoire,  Comte  de  Chabanes. 

The  count  briefly  related  to  Montpensier  his  re- 
cent adventures :  how,  forced  to  flee  from  Paris  by  an 
order  given  by  Catherine  de  Medicis  for  his  arrest,  he 
had  at  last  taken  service  in  the  guard  of  the  Marquis 
de  Mezieres,  had  recently  fought  hand  to  hand  with 
the  Due  de  Guise,  and  had,  in  desperation,  decided 
to  seek  his  friend  in  Paris. 

When  Chabanes  had  finished  the  prince  asked, 
"And  what  of  Mile,  de  Mezieres;  have  you  not 
seen  her?" 

Chabanes  colored  slightly.. 

"  I  have  had  that  honor  on  one  or  two  occasions. 
It  was  to  bring  a  message  of  hers  that  I  came  to 
Paris.  Do  you  know  her?" 

"Know  her?"  echoed  the  prince;  "she  is  to  be 
married  to  me  on  Thursday !  " 

"  Married ! "  exclaimed  the  count,  changing  from 
red  to  a  deathly  white ;  then,  recovering  himself,  he 
continued  with  a  forced  laugh,  "You  see  how  igno- 
rant of  events  one  becomes  during  these  constrained 
absences." 

"  And  what  grieves  me  most,"  the  prince  went  on, 
not  noting  the  count's  momentary  confusion,  "  is  that 
you,  my  dear  friend,  may  not  be  present  at  the  wed- 
ding. It  is  true  that  a  few  days  ago  the  queen-mother 
listened  to  my  pleadings  on  your  behalf  and  promised 
to  soon  revoke  the  order  for  your  arrest.  Neverthe- 
less I  fear  it  will  be  impossible  for  you  to  appear 
at  court  for  some  months  yet,  when  all  suspicion  of 


A  HUGUENOT  AND  A   PRINCE  57 

your  being  of  the  Reformed  religion  will  have  dis- 
appeared. Sentiment  is  high  against  the  Huguenots 
and  all  those  concerning  whom  there  has  been  the 
slightest  suspicion  of  sympathy  with  that  sect." 

"  Is  *iot  the  Prince  de  Conde  still  at  court  and  in 
favor?"  asked  the  count. 

"  He  is  at  court,  but  not  in  favor,  although  as  yet 
he  has  allowed  himself  to  be  cajoled  by  the  crafty 
Florentine  into  believing  that  she  is  about  to  create 
him  lieutenant-general  of  the  kingdom.  Gaspard  de 
Tavannes  is  at  present  organizing  a  secret  society 
called  'The  Brotherhood  of  the  Holy  Spirit,'  the 
avowed  purpose  of  which  is  to  crush  the  Reformed 
church  out  of  France.  It  is  the  talk  of  the  court 
that  the  king  has  just  ordered  the  immediate  levy 
of  six  thousand  Swiss  and  that  an  army-corps  is  to 
be  formed  on  the  frontiers  of  Champagne.  You 
know,  my  dear  Raoul,"  continued  the  prince,  affec- 
tionately, "  that  means  but  one  thing :  that  the  war 
will  break  out  afresh  before  the  summer  wanes.  And 
I  have  no  intention  of  allowing  you  to  remain  in  the 
midst  of  the  dangers  to  which,  here  in  Paris,  you 
would  be  exposed." 

"Then,  Charles,  I  suppose  I  must  return  home, 
and  allow  sword  and  spirit  to  rust  another  twelve- 
month." 

The  count  sighed  deeply. 

"No,"  said  the  prince;  "you  must  not  do  that. 
I  am  about  to  take  to  Champigny  a  young  and,  as 
I  have  been  given  to  understand,  a  beautiful  wife. 
If  the  war  recommences  shortly,  as  I  am  positive  it 
will,  I  shall  be  forced  to  leave  her,  as  the  king's 


58  A   PARFIT  GENTIL   KNIGHT 

service  will  call  me  to  the  field.  Raoul,  I  want  you 
to  go  to  Champigny  as  soon  as  you  can,  prepare 
the  chateau  for  the  reception  of  the  bride,  and  make 
it  your  home  until  such  time  as  we  shall  both  deem 
fit  for  your  return  to  court."  t 

Chabanes  warmly  grasped  the  prince's  proffered 
hand.  This  new  proof  of  confidence  and  esteem, 
as  well  as  affection,  touched  him  deeply  and  he 
renewed  a  mental  vow,  made  long  before,  that  never 
should  the  confidence  be  betrayed,  the  esteem  mis- 
placed, or  the  affection  undervalued. 

"  Charles,"  exclaimed  the  count,  "  your  friendship 
drives  me  to  shame  in  the  knowledge  that  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  deserve  it !  " 

"  You  have  already  deserved  more  than  I  can  ever 
offer  you,"  replied  the  prince,  with  simple  sincerity. 
"  And  now,"  he  continued,  "  when  will  you  start  for 
Champigny?  It  is  fortunate  that  you  are  arrayed  in 
the  uniform  of  M.  de  Mezieres ;  it  is  a  complete  dis- 
guise." 

"  To-morrow,  if  you  think  best,  Charles,"  said  the 
count,  in  reply  to  the  question. 

"  Good,"  replied  the  prince.  "  And  now,  as  I 
know  you  must  be  fatigued  and  hungered,  suppose 
we  seek  refreshment  in  a  near-by  inn.  I  know  an 
excellent  one,  not  two  minutes'  walk  from  here, 
where  our  presence  will  not  excite  comment." 

And,  arm  in  arm,  the  two  young  men  went  off 
down  the  street,  followed  by  one  of  the  prince's 
lackeys,  who  led  Chabanes'  handsome  horse. 


A  CARDINAL  AND  AN  AMBITION 

THE  Due  de  Guise,  on  leaving  the  Comte  de 
Chabanes  in  front  of  the  h6tel  in  the  Rue  du 
Chaume,  repaired  immediately  to  the  Louvre,  where 
his  uncle,  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  awaited  him.  He 
found  the  cardinal  seated  at  a  table  in  a  small  cham- 
ber in  the  apartments  of  the  queen-mother.  As  the 
youthful  head  of  the  house  of  Guise  entered,  his  uncle 
arose,  bowed  stiffly,  and  reseated  himself.  The  duke 
haughtily  followed  this  example. 

"  Monsieur,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  pride,  "  I  was  not 
over-sure  that  I  could  be  here  this  evening,  or  at 
least,  that  I  could  remain  longer  than  a  few  moments. 
Unexpected  circumstances,  however,  have  altered  my 
plans,  and  I  am  happy  to  announce  to  you  that  I  am 
entirely  at  your  service." 

The  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  did  not  reply  for  several 
moments.  He  was  at  this  period  forty-two  years  of 
age,  and  he  had  lost  none  of  that  grace,  beauty,  wit, 
and  affability  that  had  marked  him  as  a  cavalier  of 
much  magnificence  and  charm,  when,  nineteen  years 
before,  he  appeared  in  Rome,  a  dashing  young  gentle- 
man just  entering  on  a  marvellous  career.  Now 
there  were  many  in  France  that  considered  him  the 
true  king  of  the  realm,  and  indeed  the  influence  he 


6O  A   PARFIT  GENTIL   KNIGHT 

exercised  over  the  queen-mother,  under  whose  power- 
ful sway  the  weakling  Charles  IX.  ruled,  had  in  great 
measure  justified  this  opinion.  The  cardinal  gazed 
steadily  but  kindly  at  his  nephew,  who  unflinchingly 
bore  the  searching  glance  of  the  cold  gray  eyes. 

"  Henri,"  he  said,  impressively,  "  the  hour  is  near 
at  hand  that  is  to  test  the  courage,  ambition,  and 
strength  of  the  son  of  your  illustrious  father.  Already 
M.  d'Aumale  and  myself  have  been  gratified  by  the 
excellent  reports  of  your  bravery  that  preceded  your 
return  from  Hungary  and  the  Turkish  wars.  As 
you  doubtless  have  known,  France  is  approaching  a 
crisis,  internal  and  grave,  on  the  nature  of  which  I 
need  not  dwell.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  before  six 
months  have  passed  you  will  be  at  the  head  of  an 
army  and  in  a  position  that  we  know  you  to  covet 
above  all  things,  in  which  you  will  find  the  oppor- 
tunity of  avenging  the  cowardly  assassination  of  your 
father." 

"  Monsieur,"  interrupted  Guise,  eagerly,  "  I  beg 
you  to  explain  more  fully.  I  confess  that  of  late  I 
have  too  much  neglected  affairs  at  court  to  be  fully 
cognizant  of  all  that  is  occurring.  Proceed,  Monsieur, 
I  am  all  attention." 

The  Cardinal  continued,  with  a  smile  of  satis- 
faction. 

"This  morning  the  Prince  de  Conde,  in  some 
manner  aroused  from  the  trustful  sleep  into  which 
the  queen-mother  has  so  skilfully  lulled  him,  in  the 
presence  of  the  Due  d'Anjou,  demanded  of  Catherine 
de  M6dicis  the  post  as  lieutenant-general  of  the  king- 
dom, which  she  promised  him  at  the  conclusion  of 


A    CARDINAL  AND  AN  AMBITION  6 1 

the  recent  peace  of  Amboise.  The  queen-mother, 
startled  at  this  sudden  demand,  to  which  M.  de  Conde 
added  a  request  for  the  sword  of  constable,  which 
Montmorency  seems  disposed  to  resign,  returned  no 
direct  answer;  but  the  Due  d'Anjou  so  haughtily 
repudiated  the  idea,  that  there  was  no  longer  room 
for  doubt  in  the  prince's  mind  as  to  the  feeling  of 
the  royal  family  in  regard  to  him.  He  then  asked  an 
explanation  of  the  recent  increase  in  the  soldiery,  say- 
ing, '  There  is  no  longer  any  question  of  war  with 
Spain,  or  of  the  mobilization  of  an  army;  what, 
pray,  will  you  do  with  the  Swiss  you  are  raising?' 
To  this  Monsieur  replied,  significantly,  '  We  shall  find 
good  employment  for  them ! ' ' 

The  cardinal  paused  for  a  moment  and  sat  idly 
drumming  on  the  table  with  his  fingers.  Guise  waited 
patiently  for  him  to  continue,  but  as  his  uncle 
remained  silent,  he  again  begged  him  to  proceed.  In 
this  news  the  young  man  foresaw  an  opportunity  for 
the  vengeance  that  he  so  eagerly  desired.  The  ever- 
present  memory  of  the  fateful  evening  some  years 
before,  when  he  had  witnessed  the  murder  of  his 
father,  who,  after  gaining  the  famous  victory  of  Dreux, 
had  been  struck  down  by  an  assassin's  bullet,  rose 
before  him  with  all  the  horror  and  vividness  with 
which  the  crime  had  impressed  the  sensitive  lad. 
The  solemn  oath  he  had  sworn  at  his  father's  death- 
bed to  be  avenged  on  the  instigators  of  this  dastardly 
crime  was  recalled.  Perhaps  the  long-awaited  oppor- 
tunity had  come ! 

"Then  what  did  the  Prince  de  Conde  say,  Mon- 
sieur?" he  asked,  not  without  excitement. 


62  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  Nothing,"  replied  the  cardinal.  "  He  turned  on 
his  heel  and  left  the  royal  presence  and,  a  few  hours 
later,  the  court.  He  is  now  with  the  others  of 
his  party,  Coligny,  Andelot,  Rochefoucauld,  and 
La  Noue." 

"  Then  another  war  with  the  Huguenots  is  im- 
minent?" 

"  Exactly,"  replied  the  cardinal,  dryly ;  "  and  you 
are  to  have  an  opportunity  of  forgetting  your  recent 
reconciliation  with  the  admiral." 

Guise  could  not  restrain  an  exultant  exclamation, 
so  intense  was  his  hatred  for  the  Amiral  de  Coligny, 
whom  he  firmly  believed  to  be  the  instigator  of  Pol- 
trot  de  Mere",  his  father's  assassin.  Poltrot  under 
torture  had  accused  the  admiral,  and  notwithstanding 
the  latter's  repeated  denials  of  complicity  in  the  plot, 
neither  Guise  nor  the  cardinal  had  for  a  moment 
doubted  his  guilt. 

"And  now,"  said  the  cardinal,  after  a  brief  silence, 
"  there  is  one  other  thing  of  which  I  wished  to  speak. 
I  trust  that  by  this  time  you  have  recovered  from 
your  foolish  infatuation  for  Mile,  de  Me"zieres." 

The  duke  flushed  a  deep  crimson.  His  uncle, 
noting  this  fact,  continued  in  a  gentler  tone : 

"  Your  exalted  ambition  in  most  things  has  been  a 
constant  source  of  gratification  to  me.  Often,  as  I 
have  listened  to  you  unfolding  the  practical  and  lofty 
aspirations  with  which  you  seem  to  be  constantly 
occupied,  I  have  reflected  on  the  approval  and  pleas- 
ure with  which  your  father  would  have  received 
them." 

The  cardinal  paused  to  note  the  effect  of  his  words 


A    CARDINAL  AND  AN  AMBITION  63 

on  his  nephew.  The  young  man,  with  downcast  eyes, 
listened  silently  but  attentively. 

"  I  have  felt  that  your  duty  as  a  son  of  the  house 
of  Guise  ever  lay  plainly  before  you,  and  that  Henri, 
Due  de  Guise,  would  never  fail  to  further  to  the  best 
of  his  ability  the  plans  of  Frangois,  Due  de  Guise. 
And  so  I  must  confess  to  a  feeling  of  disappointment 
when,  a  few  days  ago,  you  so  passionately  insisted 
on  an  alliance  with  Mile,  de  Mezieres." 

Guise  was  about  to  interrupt,  but  the  cardinal  re- 
strained him  with  a  gesture. 

"  Yes,  I  know  that  her  fortune  is  great,  and  that 
a  marriage  with  her,  such  as  was  formerly  contem- 
plated for  your  brother,  the  Due  du  Maine,  would 
not  be  without  advantage.  Nevertheless,  there  are 
higher  alliances  for  one  of  your  station,  alliances 
that. bring  with  them  more  than  money,  that  bring 
increased  power  and  lay  the  road  to  even  more 
exalted  rank." 

As  he  said  these  last  words  the  cardinal  leaned 
across  the  table  and  met  the  uplifted  eyes  of  his 
nephew  with  a  look  of  such  significance  that  the 
latter  was  unable  to  doubt  his  uncle's  full  meaning. 
Guise  recalled  the  words  of  Victoire,  and  the  dreams 
to  which  they  had  given  rise  as  he  had  ridden 
toward  Paris  a  few  days  before.  In  an  instant  the 
audacity  of  the  ambition  possessed  him,  his  face 
flushed,  and  he  began  to  breathe  more  rapidly.  The 
strange  light  that  came  into  his  eyes  evidenced  the 
boundlessness  of  his  aspirations,  and  boded  no  good 
to  those  that  should  attempt  to  thwart  the,m. 

"  Do  you  mean  Mad —  " 


64  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"Yes,"  replied  the  cardinal,  in  a  whisper;  "take 
care  lest  we  be  overheard." 

Guise  arose  and  began  pacing  the  room.  His 
manner  betrayed  great  agitation,  and  it  was  evident 
from  the  workings  of  his  facial  muscles  that  a  violent 
conflict  was  taking  place  within  his  mind.  The  car- 
dinal, his  face  half-hidden  in  his  hand,  watched  him 
with  a  smile  of  satisfaction.  Presently  the  young 
man  approached,  and  with  his  mouth  quite  close  to 
his  uncle's  ear,  whispered  two  words,  glancing  fur- 
tively about  the  chamber  as  he  did  so. 

"And  — king?"  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  cardinal. 

He  had  hardly  uttered  the  word  when  the  door 
was  flung  open  and  a  valet  appeared  on  the  threshold. 

"  His  Majesty  the  king,  and  her  Majesty  the 
queen-mother  await  M.  le  Cardinal  de  Lorraine," 
the  man  announced. 

For  some  minutes  Guise  walked  the  floor,  already, 
in  fancy,  outlining  the  plan  whereby  he  was  to  attain 
the  throne  of  France.  "  Provided  my  uncles,  the 
cardinal  and  the  Due  d'Aumale,  retain  their  present 
prestige,  I  shall  soon  be  in  a  position  to  be  more 
powerful  than  the  king.  A  marriage  with  Margue- 
rite de  Valois  can  be  consummated  without  difficulty; 
I  can  then  proceed  to  dispossess  Catherine  de  Me"dicis 
of  the  last  vestiges  of  power;  I  will  easily  find  a 
means  of  ridding  myself  of  the  Dues  d'Anjou  and 
d'Alengon;  and  then  it  will  be  the  simplest  matter 
in  the  world  for  the  grandson  of  Louis  XII.  to  ac- 
quire the  throne  of  this  weakling,  Charles  IX." 

At    length    his    mind    reverted     to    Victoire    de 


A    CARDINAL   AND  AN  AMBITION  65 

Me"zieres.  The  thought  of  her  approaching  mar- 
riage with  the  Prince  de  Montpensier  was  far  from 
agreeable  to  him. 

"  I  shall  win  her  yet,"  he  said,  stubbornly.  "  I 
could  take  her  now,  but  it  would  mean  death  to  the 
plans  of  my  uncle,  and  the  loss  of  a  throne  that  is 
already  within  my  grasp.  It  is  maddening  to  think 
of  her  being  sacrificed  to  that  beast  of  a  Bourbon, 
Montpensier.  She  is  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
France  and  the  only  good  one,  and  she  is  to  be 
given  to  a  melancholy  dolt  whose  narrow  life  is 
bounded  by  soldiery  and  battlefields.  I  will  wager 
he  guards  her  as  would  an  hundred-headed  dragon ! 
I  could  warn  him  to  keep  her  out  of  my  path,  how- 
ever. And  now  to  devise  a  means  of  disposing  of 
Monsieur,"  he  added,  with  a  sigh  that  expressed  his 
resignation  to  a  life  of  ambition.  "  Shall  we  send 
our  foppish  Anjou  to  be  the  consort  of  the  stern  old 
hag  that  guards  the  throne  of  England,  or  buy  him 
a  principality  in  the  Americas?  I  will  warrant  the 
king  is  even  now  troubled  with  the  same  question." 

And  the  Due  de  Guise  went  slowly  home  filled 
with  dark  thoughts  and  stern  ambitions. 


VI 

A  LADY  AND   A  LOVER 

ON  a  bleak  January  night,  a  year  and  a  half  later 
than  the  time  of  the  events  described  in  the 
previous  chapters,  a  man  and  a  woman  sat  silent, 
before  a  great  smouldering  fire  in  the  vast  hall  of  an 
old  chateau.  The  wind  howled  dismally  without, 
occasional  gusts  sweeping  down  the  wide  chimney, 
scattering  the  ashes,  beating  down  the  thin  ascending 
curl  of  smoke,  and  fanning  the  blackening  logs  into  a 
dull  glow.  This,  and  here  and  there  the  rattling  of  a 
loose  casement  alone  disturbed  the  silence.  The  two 
motionless  figures  were  wrapped  in  sombre  gloom. 
An  hour  before,  the  ruddy  fire-light  had  illumined 
that  end  of  the  hall  and  cast  their  shadows  into  bold 
and  distorted  relief  on  either  tapestried  wall.  Now 
the  shadows  had  gradually  grown  until  they  filled  the 
room,  slowly  smothering  the  dying,  feeble  tongues 
of  flame  that  clung  tenaciously  to  the  great  half- 
consumed  logs  whose  ends  rested  on  the  fantastic 
brass  andirons. 

Presently  the  man  noiselessly  arose  and  began  to 
stir  the  almost  extinguished  fire  with  a  long  iron  rod. 
As  he  did  so  a  bright  blaze  burst  from  beneath  the 
ashes,  like  a  resurrected  spirit  from  its  grave,  and 
threw  the  man's  features  into  relief.  It  was  the 


A   LADY  AND  A  LOVER  6/ 

guardsman  of  Mezieres,  the  friend  of  the  Prince  de 
Montpensier,  Raoul  de  la  Tour  d'lvoire,  Comte  de 
Chabanes. 

Presently  he  returned  to  his  seat,  having  succeeded 
in  partially  arousing  the  slumbering  fire.  With  head 
bowed  on  his  hand  and  a  sad,  melancholy  look  in  his 
eyes,  he  remained  gazing  into  the  writhing,  flickering 
blaze. 

Presently  the  woman's  low,  soft  voice  aroused  him 
from  his  reverie. 

"  Raoul,"  she  said,  "  of  what  are  you  thinking?" 

He  raised  his  eyes  slowly  and  let  them  rest  for  a 
moment  on  her  face. 

"  Of  you,  Victoire,"  he  said. 

He  did  not  look  away  at  once.  Indeed  there  were 
few  men  whose  glance  fell  on  the  Princesse  de  Mont- 
pensier that  looked  away  from  her  at  once.  The 
short  time  had  wrought  a  considerable  change  in 
her.  The  pretty,  slender  girl  of  sixteen,  whom  we 
have  known  before  as  Victoire  de  Mezieres,  had 
blossomed  into  a  gloriously  beautiful  woman,  whose 
ripened  charms  were  scarcely  to  be  equalled  in  all 
France.  Chabanes  could  not  help  blessing  the  blaze 
that  revealed  her  to  him  in  all  her  queenly,  stately, 
and  above  all,  womanly  loveliness.  His  glance  rested 
fondly  on  her  beautiful  lineaments,  his  very  familiar- 
ity with  which  seemed  to  increase  their  value  and 
charm.  Her  hair,  rich,  abundant,  and  brilliantly 
black,  rippled  back  in  waves  from  a  brow  of  match- 
less purity  and  whiteness.  He  knew  that  that  hair, 
unconfined,  trailed  almost  to  her  feet,  for  once  she 
had  na'fvely  let  it  down  for  him.  Her  eyes  were 


68  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

large,  limpid,  and  of  the  deepest  blue,  and  from  them 
shone  the  light  of  a  strong,  feminine  personality, 
of  spiritual  tenderness  and  intellect.  The  Venus  de' 
Medici  herself  could  boast  of  no  more  perfectly 
chiselled  features,  and,  surely,  in  all  the  world  there 
was  not  such  another  mouth,  of  such  redness,  and 
beauty,  and  sweetness !  To-night  she  had  thrown 
aside  her  great  frilled  ruff,  and  the  fire-light  shone 
red  on  the  gleaming  whiteness  of  her  throat  Cha- 
banes  knew  that  this  fair  throat  was  delicately  veined 
with  tiny  branching  lines  of  blue.  He  sighed  slightly, 
and  glanced  back  at  the  fire. 

"  Raoul,"  said  the  princess,  "  what  news  is  there 
to-day  from  the  war  ?  " 

The  count  moved  uneasily.  He  had  learned  to 
know  that  this  question  meant,  "  How  fares  M.  de 
Guise?" 

"  There  was  a  massacre  of  Huguenots  at  Auxerre  a 
few  days  ago.  An  hundred  and  twenty  were  slain." 

"  But  what  of  M.  de  Montpensier  and  —  and  —  the 
others?" 

"Your  husband,  Charles,  and  the  Dues  de  Guise 
and  d'Anjou,  together  with  many  others  of  the  court, 
remain  in  Paris.  There  is  rumor  that  the  court  will 
go  to  Blois,  and  that  active  operations  against  the 
Protestants  will  be  at  once  undertaken.  In  that  case 
Charles  and  Guise  will  shortly  take  the  field." 

For  a  few  moments  there  was  silence.  Then 
Victoire  spoke  hesitatingly. 

"  Raoul,  how  does  Charles  agree  with  M.  de  Guise  ? 
Surely  they  are  thrown  together  much." 

"  I  have  heard  that  they  never  speak.     Charles  has 


A  LADY  AND  A   LOVER  69 

not  spoken  to  me  of  their  coldness,  and  I  know  of  it 
only  from  what  you  have  told  me." 

"  Do  you  never  ask  questions,  then,  Raoul?" 

"  Often.  How  else  could  I  keep  you  informed 
about  the  war?" 

"  But  I  mean  from  personal  curiosity.  Were  you 
never  sufficiently  interested  in  the  prince's  difficulty 
to  inquire  its  cause?" 

"  I  am  never  interested  sufficiently  in  the  private 
affairs  of  others  to  inquire  into  them.  My  interest 
begins  when  they  are  freely  and  voluntarily  com- 
municated to  me." 

"  What  a  strange  man  you  are,  Raoul !  " 

The  count  did  not  reply.  During  the  eighteen 
months  that  he  and  the  princess  had  been  the  sole 
residents  of  the  chateau  at  Champigny,  there  had 
sprung  up  such  an  intimacy  between  them  as  might 
have  been  engendered  between  brother  and  sister, 
born  and  reared  together.  The  conventional  forms 
of  conversation  had  long  since  been  discarded,  so 
the  princess  saw  no  rudeness  in  his  continued  silence. 
Indeed  she  had  come  to  know  him  so  well  that  she 
felt  that  much  was  communicated  between  them 
without  the  agency  of  words. 

At  an  early  age  Chabanes  had  been  left  an  orphan 
with  a  small  patrimony  that  barely  sufficed  to  main- 
tain an  insignificant  estate.  His  youth  had  been 
beset  by  many  vicissitudes  and  trials,  through  which 
a  rugged  strength  of  character  alone  enabled  him 
triumphantly  to  pass.  When  he  at  length  went  to 
Paris,  a  wandering  soldier  of  fortune  and  a  knight- 
errant,  he  had  time  to  form  only  a  few  friendships, 


7<D  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

chief  of  which  was  that  for  the  Prince  de  Mont- 
pensier,  a  man  several  years  his  junior,  when  the 
fierce  hatred  for  the  Huguenots  burst  forth  and  the 
count,  suspected  of  sympathy  with  the  Protestants, 
was  forced  to  fly  to  avoid  imprisonment. 

Montpensier,  unfavored  by  Nature,  diffident  and 
sensitive  almost  to  morbidness,  yet  withal  a  man  of 
courage,  strength,  and  capabilities,  was  quick  to  see 
in  the  undemonstrative  though  sympathetic  count 
a  man  of  marked  nobility,  principle,  and  chivalry. 
On  the  other  hand  Chabanes  easily  penetrated  the 
prince's  mask  of  diffidence,  saw  the  true  worth  that 
underlay  it,  and  with  perfect  frankness  reciprocated 
the  affection  that  Montpensier  hesitatingly  extended. 

When  Chabanes  learned  from  his  friend  that  the 
latter  was  about  to  marry  the  woman  with  whom 
lately  circumstances,  singularly  enough,  had  thrown 
the  count,  he  became  possessed  by  a  vague  fore- 
boding of  evil.  The  temperament  of  Montpensier 
was  not  of  a  sort  to  attract  the  beautiful  and  child- 
ish girl  he  was  to  marry,  and  the  count  coflld  not 
but  foresee  that  the  union  would  be  unsatisfactory 
to  both  husband  and  wife.  When  Chabanes,  in 
accordance  with  his  friend's  request,  welcomed  the 
fair  bride  to  gloomy,  lonely  Champigny,  his  heart 
was  filled  with  sympathy  for  this  spirited,  ardent 
young  woman  that  was  to  share  his  exile  and  to 
depend  on  him  for  such  friendship  as  would  make 
her  imprisonment  endurable. 

Tire  wonder  of  the  Princesse  de  Montpensier  was 
without  bounds  when  she  found  that  her  husband's 
dearest  friend,  the  man  with  whom  she  was  destined 


A  LADY  AND  A   LOVER  Jl 

to  pass  so  many  months,  was  the  guardsman  that 
had  but  a  few  weeks  before  acted  as  her  messenger 
to  Paris  and  M.  de  Guise.  For  a  time  it  constituted 
a  barrier  to  the  progress  of  their  friendship,  placing 
on  both  an  irresistible,  though  doubtless  reasonless 
restraint ;  but  in  time  it  became  the  means  of  further- 
ing their  acquaintance,  which  rapidly  ripened  into  the 
deepest  of  friendships. 

Nor  was  this  unusual,  since  Chabanes  offered  Vic- 
toire  those  things  that  she  most  needed,  sympathy 
and  sincere  admiration.  If  not  in  the  former,  at  least 
in  the  latter,  the  princess  reciprocated;  the  calm, 
unselfish  dignity  and  solicitous  chivalry  of  Chabanes, 
as  well  as  the  ever  evident'  nobility  that  was  the  basis 
of  his  entire  character,  could  not  but  have  provoked 
the  profoundest  admiration  in  the  breast  of  one  less 
appreciative  of  such  qualities  than  Victoire  de  Mont- 
pensier.  Chabanes'  quick  intuition  divined  the  need 
of  the  princess  for  the  most  intense  sympathetic 
interest,  and  in  sorrow  he  was  forced  to  admit  that 
there  was  slight  possibility  that  her  husband  could 
ever  supply  this  want  When  the  demand  naturally 
fell  upon  him,  he  therefore  endeavored  to  meet  its 
requirements.  In  the  end  he  became  the  confidant 
of  the  wife,  as  well  as  of  the  husband.  Her  previous 
inclination  for  the  young  Due  de  Guise,  although  it 
filled  Chabanes  with  indefinite  alarm,  knowing  as  he 
did  the  unscrupulous  character  of  the  duke,  only 
served  to  verify  his  conviction  that  the  yearning  — 
vague,  indeterminate,  and  unrealized  —  of  the  woman's 
intense  nature  for  perfect  sympathy  was  insatiate. 
She  implicitly  confided  to  him  the  affection  that  she 


72  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

had  formerly  cherished  for  Guise,  assuring  him  in 
all  sincerity  that  the  last  vestige  of  it,  other  than  a 
profound  admiration  for  what  had  seemed  to  her  the 
young  man's  nobility  of  character,  had  long  since 
been  blotted  out  and  absorbed  in  her  resolution  to 
assume  determinedly  the  duties  of  her  new  life. 

The  advice  of  Chabanes  was  the  truest,  for,  having 
every  desire  to  be  in  all  things  faithful  to  his  friend, 
he  constantly  counselled  her  to  exert  all  her  strength 
to  realize  her  highest  ideal  of  domestic  duty.  Natu- 
rally and  spontaneously  she  soon  told  him  of  the 
impression  her  stranger-husband  had  produced  on 
her,  —  that  of  an  unattractive  and  essentially  un- 
uxorious  soldier,  roughly  kind  and  evidently  desirous 
of  pleasing.  She  was  dissatisfied  because  she  could 
not  regard  the  prince  as  she  felt  a  wife  should  regard 
her  husband.  Chabanes  held  out  to  her  the  hope 
that  time  and  endeavor  would  bring  them  closer 
together.  She  could  not  feel  great  regret  when,  some 
weeks  after  their  marriage,  the  political  situation 
called  her  husband  to  court  to  remain  many  months. 
Chabanes  painted  the  prince's  estimable  qualities  in 
vivid  colors  and  tried  to  foresee  a  greater  appreciation 
of  them  on  her  part.  The  prince  loved  his  friend 
more  than  he  loved  his  wife,  she  felt.  The  count 
pointed  out  to  her  the  impossibility  of  conflict  be- 
tween the  two  affections  in  the  heart  of  Montpensier, 
as  well  as  the  necessity  to  his  happiness  of  both. 
She  could  not  help  feeling  that  her  husband  was 
happier  at  court  or  in  camp  than  he  could  ever  be 
alone  with  her.  Chabanes  endeavored  to  correct  the 
probably  false  impression. 


A   LADY  AND  A   LOVER  73 

Thus  their  lives  progressed  smoothly  toward  an 
inevitable  situation,  a  situation  that  had  its  seed  in 
that  first  interview  at  Mezieres.  Chabanes,  whose 
sympathetic  heart  went  out  to  the  beautiful,  innocent, 
sympathy-needing  woman,  perceived  that  his  feeling 
toward  her  was  gradually  growing,  changing,  intensify- 
ing, until  one  day  he  found  himself  hopelessly  and  des- 
perately in  love.  And  then  awoke  his  conscience,  de- 
vising for  him  an  hundred  tortures  with  the  inordinate 
ingenuity  of  the  conscience  of  the  highest  chivalry. 

Chabanes  attempted  to  make  light  of  his  passion ; 
it  became  the  more  intense  and  living.  He  dared  not 
deny  that  the  charm  the  princess,  as  Victoire  de 
Mezieres,  had  exercised  over  him  was  always  increas- 
ing in  power.  He  saw  with  boundless  joy  that  she 
was  measurably  happy  in  their  narrow  life,  that  she 
suffered  little  from  nostalgia,  —  and,  indeed,  she  had 
slight  cause,  considering  the  uneventfulness  and  dis- 
satisfactoriness  of  her  former  life  —  and  that  he 
had  achieved  a  not  inconsiderable  place  in  her  life. 
When  she  went  to  him  with  every  little  care,  almost 
as  a  child  would  seek  its  mother  to  pour  out  the 
troubles,  imaginary  and  real,  of  a  sensitive  and  fanci- 
ful nature,  his  heart  filled  to  overflowing  with  an 
inexpressible  joy  and  pride. 

However,  many  a  heart-rending  conflict  took  place 
in  his  soul,  so  that  he  witnessed  with  ever-increas- 
ing despair  the  augmentation  of  a  passion  that  from 
the  first  threatened  to  control  him.  In  the  begin- 
ning he  had  resolved  to  tear  his  heart  out  rather 
than  to  betray  his  love  to  Victoire.  When,  con- 
science-stricken, he  had  contemplated  leaving  her 


74  ^   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

forever,  regardless  of  his  promise  to  the  prince  that 
he  would  remain  with  her  at  Champigny,  confidence 
in  his  hitherto  unfailing  strength,  increased  by  the 
unqualified  recognition  of  the  fact  that  Victoire 
regarded  him  only  as  a  friend,  made  him  feel  safe  in 
maintaining  his  position  with  regard  to  herself  and 
her  husband.  He  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  what 
might  happen  were  the  princess  to  be  left  alone  to 
the  mercies  of  the  prince,  —  how  both  would  inevi- 
tably suffer.  He  realized  the  good  influence  Fate 
had  enabled  him  to  exert  over  the  lives  of  both 
husband  and  wife,  and  he  was  satisfied  that  his  love, 
if  never  expressed,  would  result  in  no  harm.  He 
resolved  to  divert  it  to  the  purpose  of  ameliorating 
in  every  way  the  domestic  relations  of  Montpensier 
and  Victoire. 

Now,  as  he  sat  sorrowfully  gazing  into  the  fire, 
Chabanes  maintained  with  all  his  strength  that  inward 
struggle  that  continually  possessed  him.  He  could 
not  look  at  her,  or  hear  her  voice,  or  even  be  aware 
of  her  presence  without  experiencing  an  almost 
imperative  impulse  to  go  to  her  side,  take  her  hand 
in  his,  and  tell  her  of  the  passion  that  burned  in  his 
breast,  of  the  love  that  had  absorbed  all  the  interests 
of  his  life. 

"  How  is  the  war  going  to  terminate  after  all, 
Raoul  ?  "  asked  Victoire,  suddenly. 

"  I  wish  I  could  tell  you  that,"  was  the  reply ;  "  I 
fear  very  badly." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Badly  for  the  Huguenots.  They  are  brave  men 
and  will  fight  to  the  last,  but  they  are  at  a  great  dis- 


A   LADY  AND  A  LOVER  75 

advantage.  The  Amiral  de  Coligny  is  a  better  soldier 
than  Gaspard  de  Tavannes  and  as  cunning  as  the 
Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  but  he  is  less  unscrupulous 
than  either.  The  Protestants  place  too  much  faith 
in  the  king's  word.  They  do  not  realize  that  it  is 
wrung  from  him  by  the  most  treacherous  of  the 
Catholics." 

"  If  I  did  not  know  your  natural  sympathy  for  the 
undermost  in  any  fight,  Raoul,  I  should  accuse  you 
of  being  a  heretic.  Sometimes  I  think  you  are  one 
in  a  way ;  you  are  dreadfully  irregular  about  going  to 
Mass." 

The  count  smiled  faintly  but  ventured  no  reply. 

"  Raoul,"  Victoire  said,  after  a  moment's  pause, 
"  do  you  think  that  the  Due  de  Guise  will  acquit  him- 
self as  splendidly  in  this  war  as  he  did  in  the  last 
one?" 

The  count  winced  as  though  he  had  received  a 
stroke  from  a  lash.  He  had  for  long  been  unable  to 
conceal  from  himself  the  fact  that  he  was  intensely 
jealous  of  the  Due  de  Guise.  The  knowledge  that 
Guise  often  occupied  Victoire's  thoughts  stung  him 
terribly;  he  had  always  distrusted  Guise,  whom  he 
had  from  the  first  recognized  as  one  of  the  worst 
among  many  that  were  bad,  and  he  wished  that  the 
princess  might  have  long  since  forgotten  her  girlhood 
lover.  He  was  aware  that  he  had  not  the  slightest 
grounds  for  condemning  her  increasing  interest  in 
Guise,  knowing  it  to  be  beyond  question  the  most 
innocent  hero-worship,  as  far  removed  from  disloyalty 
to  her  husband  as  would  have  been  an  admiration  for 
a  classical  demigod. 


76  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  You  remember  with  what  brilliancy  he  conducted 
himself  at  Saint  Denis,"  continued  the  princess,  at- 
taching no  particular  import  to  the  count's  failure 
to  reply.  She  had  spoken  of  Guise's  behavior  at 
that  battle  dozens  of  times  before ;  it  was  a  favorite 
topic  of  conversation  with  her.  As  she  frankly  told 
Chabanes,  it  seemed  to  her  that  each  act  of  bravery 
on  the  duke's  part  only  served  to  justify  the  inclina- 
tion that,  as  a  girl,  she  had  professed  for  him. 

"  I  feel  assured  beyond  doubt  that  the  Prince  de 
Montpensier  will  repeat  his  magnificent  demonstra- 
tion of  courage  and  soldiership,"  said  Chabanes, 
presently. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Victoire,  reflectively,  "  my  husband 
carried  himself  nobly.  Still,  it  is  less  surprising  that 
the  Prince  de  Montpensier,  essentially  a  soldier  and 
a  leader  in  battle,  should  acquit  himself  on  all  occa- 
sions with  the  utmost  courage  and  sagacity  than  that 
the  Due  de  Guise,  whose  versatility  is  so  extraordi- 
nary, and  whom  I  know  for  a  man  of  heart  and 
of  great  tenderness,  should  prove  so  unsurpassed  a 
warrior." 

Chabanes  shrank  under  this  little  encomium,  as  he 
had  done  under  many  others  from  her  lips.  Guise 
was  beyond  doubt  her  hero,  without  fear  and  with- 
out reproach,  familiarity  with  whom  had  not  had 
the  opportunity  to  breed  the  contempt  that,  sooner 
or  later,  must  arise.  Now,  it  was  the  incessant 
hunger  for  the  ideal  that  possessed  her,  —  the  ideal, 
far  off  and  indistinct.  Chabanes  was  often  on  the 
point  of  petulantly  springing  to  his  feet  and  abruptly 
leaving  her,  or  of  upbraiding  her  for  being  ignorant 


A  LADY  AND  A  LOVER  77 

of  his  own  great  love,  which  seemed  so  vast  that  all 
the  world  could  not  help  being  aware  of  it.  The 
temptation  would  possess  him  to  cry  to  her,  "  My 
heart  aches  to  proffer  what  your  soul  so  eagerly 
craves !  Are  you  blind,  that  you  should  pass  it  by 
unnoticed?" 

Perhaps  a  quarter  of  an  hour  passed  in  silence. 
The  fire-light  disappeared,  resolving  itself  into  glow- 
ing embers  which,  in  turn,  died  away  in  ashes. 

At  length  Victoire  spoke  again. 

"  Raoul,  you  are  one  of  the  noblest  men  I  have 
ever  known.  Charles  should  be  truly  thankful  that 
he  has  such  a  friend.  Pardon  the  frankness  of  such 
a  statement;  but  I  cannot  help  wondering  some- 
times what  might  occur  were  any  other  man  in 
your  position.  What  other  man  was  ever  trusted 
so  implicitly  by  a  young  and  impetuous  husband? 
And  by  a  wife,"  she  added,  remembering  how  little 
of  her  life  there  was  that  she  had  not  told  him. 
"  Surely  you  are  the  truest  of  friends ;  and  I  shall 
never  hesitate,  as  long  as  I  live,  to  intrust  you  with 
my  life,  —  my  honor  even." 

The  count  shuddered.  How  differently  she  would 
feel,  he  thought,  could  she  read  his  inmost  desires ! 

"  I  appreciate  such  a  confidence,"  he  said ;  "  and, 
God  helping  me,  I  shall  try  always  to  deserve  it." 

His  voice  sounded  strained  and  unnatural,  and  he 
was  beginning  to  tremble  nervously.  He  arose  un- 
steadily and  went  to  Victoire's  side. 

"I  have  a — a  slight  headache  to-night,"  he  said, 
"and  I  beg  that  you  will  excuse  me.  Shall  I  call 
Antoinette?" 


78  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

The  princess  arose  quickly  and  took  his  hand.  It 
was  moist  and  feverish. 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  ill,  Raoul,"  she  said  in  a  tone 
of  real  sympathy. 

"  Oh,  it  is  nothing  of  consequence,"  he  answered, 
lightly;  "  it  will  have  passed  in  the  morning." 

"  Then  I  must  not  detain  you  longer.  Yes,  you 
may  tell  Antoinette  to  come.  Good-night,  Raoul, 
I  trust  you  will  have  entirely  recovered  in  the 
morning." 


VII 

A  VISITOR  AND  AN  AVOWAL 

'  I  SHE  chateau  of  Champigny  was  situated  in  a 
•*•  wide  clearing  surrounded  by  deep  forests. 
The  estate  was  a  vast  one,  including  fields,  forests, 
and  a  number  of  streams,  tributaries  of  the  river 
Vienne,  which  widened  into  a  clear  lake  twenty 
minutes'  walk  from  the  fagade  of  the  chateau.  The 
hereditary  home  of  the  princes  of  Montpensier, 
like  the  majority  of  French  castles,  had  been  built 
at  a  number  of  periods,  and,  in  consequence,  the 
architectural  structure  of  different  portions  varied 
widely.  The  high  gothic  fagade,  begun  in  the 
eleventh  century,  had  been  increased  by  a  wing 
placed  at  right  angles  to  the  east  side  and  of  a 
length  twice  that  of  the  original  building.  A  later 
addition  placed  a  wing  similar  to  the  older  building 
at  the  other  end  of  the  long  wing,  and  a  still  later 
increase  placed  a  short  wing  between  the  front  and 
rear  portions  on  the  west  side  of  the  long  wing. 
The  plan  of  the  chateau  in  its  finished  state  thus 
resembled  a  gigantic  "  E,"  and  the  castle-wings  en- 
closed two  large  courts  each  on  three  sides.  The 
second  floor  of  the  smallest  and  centre  wing  was 
occupied  by  the  apartments  of  Mme.  de  Mont- 
pensier, the  same  story  of  the  front  wing  contained 


8O  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

the  rooms  of  the  prince,  and  the  Comte  de  Chabanes 
ordinarily  occupied  the  portion  of  the  long  wing 
that  lay  between  the  two.  In  other  words,  the 
prince's  apartments  were  in  the  upper  arm  of  the 
"  E,"  those  of  the  princess  in  the  middle  arm,  and 
the  count's  lodgings  in  the  upper  half  of  the  letter's 
stem.  The  apartments  of  all  three  thus  faced  on 
the  same  court,  which  was  paved  with  stone  flagging 
and  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  deep  well,  protected 
by  a  huge  carved  balustrade.  The  lower  half  of 
the  "  E "  was  reserved  for  royal  visitors  and  princes 
of  the  blood. 

The  household  of  the  chateau  was  a  type  of  the 
organizations  that  the  establishment  of  a  prince  at 
that  time  required.  The  servants  attached  to  the 
stables,  kennels,  and  kitchen  were  numerous,  and  in 
addition  to  a  dozen  house-servants,  the  princess  had 
her  women,  chief  of  whom,  of  course,  was  Antoinette 
de  Lerac.  Champigny  had  a  chapel  and  a  number  of 
private  oratories,  an  armory,  a  council  chamber,  and 
a  great  hall,  as  we  have  just  seen. 

As  Chabanes  left  this  hall,  in  which  he  and  the 
princess  had  been  spending  the  dismal  evening,  he 
traversed  for  forty  paces  a  wide  corridor  that  led  to 
the  outer  door  of  his  own  apartments.  A  few  candles, 
flickering  in  the  chandeliers,  furnished  a  feeble  light, 
by  the  aid  of  which  he  groped  for  his  door.  His 
hand  had  just  grasped  the  curtains  that  hung  before 
it  when  a  man,  evidently  greatly  startled,  stepped  out 
and  attempted  to  brush  the  count  aside.  The  latter, 
however,  caught  the  fellow's  doublet  in  his  strong 
grasp,  opened  the  door  and  dragged  the  intruder  into 


A    VISITOR  AND  AN  AVOWAL  8 1 

the  room.  Once  inside,  he  blew  his  whistle  sharply 
and  waited.  There  was  no  response.  The  man  in 
the  count's  grasp  was  sputtering  and  gasping  be- 
neath the  clutch  of  his  captor.  The  count  blew 
another  blast  on  his  whistle,  and  from  the  darkness 
of  the  room  there  came  a  trembling  voice,  which  he 
recognized  as  that  of  Antoinette. 

"  It  is  I,  Monsieur,"  she  said ;  "  shall  I  bring  a  light?  " 

"  A  light  would  possibly  help  us  to  clear  matters  a 
trifle,"  responded  the  count,  sarcastically. 

There  was  the  sound  of  pattering  steps  and  of  a 
door  being  opened  and  closed,  and  presently  An- 
toinette appeared  with  two  lighted  candles,  from  the 
flames  of  which  she  proceeded  to  illumine  the  apart- 
ments. Then,  and  only  then,  the  count  relaxed  his 
hold  on  the  collar  of  his  prisoner,  who,  puffing  and 
panting,  and  very  red  in  the  face,  proved  to  be  the 
German,  Besme. 

"  It  seems  that  I  have  the  pleasure  again,  M.  de 
Besme,"  said  the  count,  in  the  same  sarcastic  tone. 
"  What  is  your  errand  to-night,  pray  ?  Are  you  look- 
ing for  old  Huguenots  to  badger?" 

The  German  shuffled  his  feet  uneasily,  and  sullenly 
hung  his  head.  It  was  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  to 
make  some  insulting  reference  to  the  count's  reported 
Protestant  sympathies,  but  he  remembered  the  two 
previous  occasions  on  which  he  and  Chabanes  had 
met,  and  refrained.  He  seemed  no  little  alarmed  at 
his  predicament,  and  cast  about  him  for  some  plau- 
sible excuse  and  means  of  escape.  As  he  did  not 
immediately  answer,  the  count  turned  to  the  trembling 
maid  for  an  explanation. 

6 


82  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  Monsieur,"  she  said,  stammering,  "  it  was  I  that 
brought  him  into  your  apartments.  He  came  for  no 
harm,  I  am  certain." 

It  was  in  the  count's  mind  to  call  servants  and  have 
the  German  confined  in  the  dungeon.  He  knew  the 
man's  attachment  to  Guise  and  felt  a  vague  intuition 
that  the  duke  had  sent  him  on  some  errand  with 
reference  to  Victoire.  There  was  something  in  the 
eager  earnestness  of  the  girl's  tone,  however,  that 
made  him  reconsider  his  project.  He  had  never 
known  Antoinette  to  deceive  him,  and  he  felt  that 
she  was  to  be  trusted  in  all  matters,  especially  those 
pertaining  to  her  mistress. 

"  I  will  conduct  M.  de  Besme  to  the  court,  An- 
toinette," he  said  gravely ;  "  but  I  warn  him  that  if  he 
is  caught  in  the  vicinity  of  Champigny  again,  I  shall 
have  him  confined  in  the  dungeon."  And  turning  to 
Besme  he  added  abruptly,  "  If  you  are  ready,  Mon- 
sieur, we  will  go :  after  you." 

When  they  had  descended  to  the  court,  the  German 
found  his  voice.  "  Monsieur,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of 
sudden  defiance  and  anger,  "  I  shall  not  forget  you. 
You  have  seen  fit  to  wrong  me  in  every  way,  —  by 
insult  and  by  violence,  —  and  I  have  sought  no 
revenge.  This  latest  injury  you  do  me,  in  stealing 
from  me  the  woman  I  love,  shall  surely  not  go  un- 
answered. My  arm  is  longer  than  you  may  imagine. 
We  shall  meet  again,  Monsieur."  Having  delivered 
himself  of  which  warning,  the  German  strode  away 
into  the  darkness. 

Chabanes  turned  into  the  chateau  with  a  puzzled 
look  on  his  features.  What  could  the  knave  mean  ? 


A    VISITOR  AND  AN  AVOWAL  83 

He  must  be  mad !  Could  he  have  guessed  that  the 
count  loved  the  princess?  Could  it  be  that  the 
German  aspired  to  the  love  of  Victoire?  The  count 
laughed  heartily  at  the  absurdity  of  such  a  conjecture. 
Nevertheless,  there  was  something  strange  in  Besme's 
words,  and  it  was  with  a  feeling  of  confusion  that 
Chabanes  faced  Antoinette  on  his  return  to  his 
chamber. 

He  noticed  that  the  girl  was  unusually  pale  for  one 
so  dark,  and  fancied  that  he  could  even  detect  the 
traces  of  tears  on  her  cheeks  and  about  her  eyes. 
"  The  man  has  been  torturing  her  as  he  did  the  old 
Huguenot,"  he  thought. 

"Well,  Antoinette,  I  am  greatly  puzzled  at  to- 
night's occurrences,"  said  the  count,  in  a  kindly  tone. 
"  I  hope  you  can  explain  them  satisfactorily." 

"  Monsieur,"  replied  the  maid,  her  eyes  filling  with 
tears,  "  there  is  little  to  tell.  M.  de  Besme  has  for 
some  time  forced  his  attentions  on  me,  writing  me 
almost  daily.  Heretofore  I  have  forbidden  him  to 
come  to  Champigny,  knowing  that  his  presence  here 
must  be  odious  to  my  mistress "  —  with  a  glance  of 
significance  that  brought  a  flush  to  the  count's  face  — 
"  but  to-night  he  disregarded  my  wishes  and  sur- 
prised me  by  slipping  past  the  sentry  and  seeking  me 
in  my  room.  I  finally  prevailed  on  him  to  leave,  and 
just  as  I  was  conducting  him  through  the  corridor  to 
the  court,  we  heard  steps  approaching.  Supposing 
one  of  the  servants  was  coming,  and  not  wishing  that 
M.  de  Besme  should  be  seen,  I  opened  the  first  door, 
which  happened  to  be  your  own,  and  told  him  to 
conceal  himself  there  with  me  until  the  steps  had 


84  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

passed.  It  was  thus  that  you  met  him  as  you  were 
about  to  enter  your  door." 

The  count  mused  for  a  moment  in  silence. 

"  Are  the  attentions  of  Besme  unpleasant  to  you, 
Antoinette  ?  "  he  said,  presently. 

"Very,  Monsieur." 

"  The  sentry  shall  be  doubled  from  to-morrow,  and 
he  will  not  annoy  you  again  so  easily.  I  presume 
you  would  rather  Mme.  de  Montpensier  knew  noth- 
ing of  this  affair?" 

"Yes,  Monsieur;  it  would  pain  her  deeply  to 
know  that  a  follower  of  the  Due  de  Guise  had  been 
here  —  " 

She  stopped  suddenly  and  cast  a  piercing  glance 
at  the  count,  who  again  colored. 

"  You  love  her !  "  she  cried  despairingly.  "  You 
love  her !  I  am  sure  of  it !  "  She  threw  herself  on 
her  knees  before  a  chair  and,  burying  her  head  in 
her  hands,  sobbed  disconsolately. 

Chabanes,  struck  with  a  sudden  dread  and  moved 
at  the  sight  of  her  tears,  stepped  forward  to  assist 
her  to  her  feet.  She  shook  him  off,  however,  and 
wept  more  violently.  He  controlled  himself  with  an 
effort. 

"  Antoinette,"  he  said,  in  his  kindly  way,  "  has 
some  one  hurt  you?  Have  I  said  anything  to  cause 
you  such  grief?  " 

The  girl  did  not  answer.  "  You  love  her !  "  she 
repeated,  between  sobs. 

"  Love  whom,  Antoinette  ?  "  asked  the  count,  sadly. 

"  My  mistress." 

"  Doubtless ;    who   does   not   love  your   mistress, 


A    VISITOR  AND  AN  AVOWAL  85 

that  knows  her?  But  what  has  that  to  do  with 
these  tears?" 

The  girl  slowly  raised  her  head.  Then,  suddenly 
flinging  back  her  hair  from  her  forehead,  she  arose 
and  faced  him,  her  cheeks  glowing  and  her  black 
eyes  flashing. 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  it?"  she  cried.  "  Are 
you  blind,  Monsieur?  Can  you  not  see  that  I  love 
you  ?  I  —  I  —  the  maid,  Antoinette  —  I  love  you  ! 
Now  can  you  ask  what  your  love  for  Madame  has 
to  do  with  my  tears  ?  Do  you  know  why  I  almost 
hate  the  mistress  that  has  loved  me  as  her  own 
sister?  Do  you  know  why  I  so  thoroughly  despise 
M.  de  Besme? —  that  I  almost  told  him  so  to-night?" 

She  sank  back  on  the  floor  exhausted  by  this  out- 
burst and  terrified  at  what  she  had  done.  The 
count,  startled  and  surprised,  remained  immobile. 
It  pained  him  beyond  expression  to  know  that  this 
girl  had  wasted  such  an  intense,  overpowering  pas- 
sion on  him.  He  was  aware  now  of  Besme's  mean- 
ing when  he  had  referred  to  stolen  affections.  After 
a  moment  he  laid  his  hand  softly  on  the  girl's 
shoulder.  A  shudder  swept  over  her,  but  she  did 
not  move. 

"Antoinette,  how  long  has  this  —  how  long  have 
you  felt  so  toward  me  ?  " 

The  maid,  who  had  expected  to  be  at  once  ordered 
to  her  room,  took  courage  at  the  kindliness  of  his 
tone. 

"  Since  the  day  you  first  came  to  Champigny, 
Monsieur,"  she  sobbed,  softly.  "No,  since  I  first 
saw  you  as  a  guardsman  at  M^zieres." 


86  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"And  what  did  you  tell  Besme,  to-night?"  he 
continued. 

"  I  could  not  prevail  on  him  to  leave  until  I  had 
told  him  that  I  had  given  my  heart  to  some  one  else ; 
and  then  he  was  so  insistent  that  I  was  compelled 
to  half-acknowledge  that  it  was  to  you.  He  seemed 
to  have  suspected  it;  all  men  are  not  so  blind  to 
such  things  as  you,  Monsieur." 

The  girl's  artless  sincerity  was  too  apparent  for  the 
count  to  suspect  for  a  moment  that  she  was  deceiving 
him. 

"Antoinette,"  he  said  softly  —  it  seemed  that  she 
trembled  at  the  very  sound  of  his  voice — "Antoi- 
nette, you  must  never  refer  to  this  again.  You  are 
possessed  by  some  foolish  hallucination  that  will  soon 
pass  —  " 

"  Not  that ! "  she  cried,  suddenly,  almost  fiercely. 
"Anything  but  that!  At  least  give  my  love  its 
due." 

"  Well,  as  you  will.  But  before  you  go,  you  must 
promise  never  to  mention  it  again.  If  you  did,  I 
should  have  to  speak  of  it  to  Madame,  you  know, 
and  she  —  " 

"  She  would  send  me  away.  Monsieur,  I  promise  ! 
I  should  never  even  see  you  again !  " 

"Very  well,"  said  the  count,  who  was  growing 
anxious  to  end  the  little  scene ;  "  and  now  we  under- 
stand each  other.  We  are  not  to  speak  on  this 
subject  again,  and  Madame  is  to  know  nothing;  is 
it  agreed?" 

"  It  is,  Monsieur,"  replied  Antoinette,  who,  knowing 
that  the  count's  words  were  her  dismissal,  had  arisen. 


A    VISITOR  AND  AN  AVOWAL  8/ 

"  Good-night,  Monsieur."  She  fled  hastily  into 
the  corridor. 

"  Good-night,  Antoinette." 

Frangois,  the  count's  valet,  appeared  presently  to 
assist  his  master  in  retiring,  having  been  notified  by 
the  maid  that  the  count  was  in  his  apartments. 


VIII 

A  CONFIDANT  AND  A  RESOLUTION 

THE  valet  was  tall  and  angular,  possessing  feat- 
ures of  much  irregularity.  Chabanes,  who 
was  assured  that  the  fellow  possessed  several  valuable 
qualities,  had  discovered  him  in  the  guard  of  a  noble- 
man in  the  south  of  France  and,  when  the  count 
went  to  Champigny,  he  sent  for  the  guardsman  and 
employed  him  as  his  valet.  Chabanes  prized  him  for 
his  taciturnity  and  his  knowledge  of  war  and  the 
chase,  rather  than  for  his  ability  as  a  gentleman's 
valet,  in  which  latter  calling,  however,  his  master  had 
thoroughly  instructed  him.  The  devotion  of  Francois 
to  Chabanes  was  equalled  only  by  that  of  the  count's 
enormous  boar-hound,  Hercules. 

Montpensier  had  presented  the  count  with  the  dog 
soon  after  Chabanes  had  retired  to  Champigny,  and 
the  value  to  Chabanes  of  the  animal's  faithful  friend- 
ship and  canine  sympathy  had  become  inestimable. 
When,  torn  by  a  thousand  wild  desires  and  over- 
powering emotions,  the  count  yearned  for  a  sympa- 
thetic ear  into  which  he  might  pour  the  torrents  of 
his  despair,  he  sought  this  dumb  companion,  drawing 
great  comfort  from  the  confidences  that  he  bestowed 
on  Hercules.  Hercules  was  only  a  dog  and  incapable 
of  understanding,  but  he  was  an  animate  confidant 


A   CONFIDANT  AND  A   RESOLUTION  89 

that  loved  his  master,  and  it  was  better  to  share  his 
burdens  with  the  dog  than  to  bear  their  crushing 
weight  in  stifling  silence. 

"Where  is  Hercules  to-night,  Franjois?"  asked 
Chabanes,  as  the  valet  entered  the  room. 

"  He  was  restless  to-night,  Monsieur,  and  an  hour 
ago  I  took  him  out  in  the  park.  He  broke  away 
from  me  a  few  minutes  since  and  attacked  a  strange 
man  that  was  leaving  through  the  north  gate.  The 
man  turned  on  him  with  his  sword  and  would  have 
struck  the  dog,  had  I  not  succeeded  in  attracting  the 
attention  of  Hercules." 

"  The  dog,  then,  is  uninjured  ?  " 

"Yes,  Monsieur." 

"  Bring  him  to  me.     I  shall  not  need  you  to-night." 

When  the  valet  had  gone  for  the  dog,  Chabanes 
threw  off  his  doublet  and  approached  a  window  that 
opened  on  the  court.  He  saw  that  a  light  still  burned 
in  the  apartments  of  Victoire. 

Presently  Frangois  returned,  leading  the  boar- 
hound  by  the  end  of  a  broken  chain.  The  great 
brute  bounded  into  the  room  and  sprang  on  his 
master  in  an  ecstasy  of  pleasure.  The  valet  retired, 
after  bidding  Chabanes  good-night.  The  count  per- 
mitted the  dog  to  place  his  fore-feet  on  his  shoulders. 
Hercules'  tail  wagged  madly,  and  at  intervals  his 
cavernous  mouth  emitted  short  yelps  of  joy. 

"  So  you  broke  your  chain  again,  did  you,  Her- 
cules?" said  Chabanes,  gently  forcing  the  boar-hound 
to  the  floor  and  caressing  his  huge  head. 

Hercules  barked  his  reply,  and  the  count  walked 
slowly  back  to  the  window. 


90  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"Do  you  see  the  light  over  there,  Hercules?"  he 
continued,  as  the  dog,  in  seeming  realization  of  his 
master's  serious  mood,  ceased  his  vociferous  manifes- 
tations and  gazed  sedately  out  across  the  starlit  court. 
"You  and  I  have  often  seen  it  before,  and  we  both 
know  whose  light  it  is.  It  is  furnished  by  a  half- 
dozen  tapers  in  a  candelabrum  that  stands  on  a  great 
oak  table.  On  the  table  are  many  little  silver  trifles, 
combs  and  caskets  and  such  things,  and  beside  the 
table  stands  a  great  oval  mirror.  It  is  just  as  it  was 
one  night,  many  months  ago,  at  M6zieres.  A  woman 
sits  beside  the  table,  Hercules.  She  is  very  beautiful, 
and  over  her  shapely  white  shoulders  there  streams  a 
vast  cascade  of  glistening  sable  hair,  through  which 
a  maid  gently  draws  a  heavy  silver  comb. 

"  Her  eyes  are  very  blue  and  her  lips  are  red,  and, 
although  I  have  never  been  near  to  them,  I  know 
that  they  are  very  soft  and  warm.  And  her  heart, 
Hercules,  is  true  as  Heaven  itself.  She  is  brave  and 
kind  and  trusting.  Would  you  love  any  one  that 
was  very  good  and  beautiful  and  innocent,  and  that 
trusted  you  as  though  you  were  an  archangel,  instead 
of  a  man  of  common  clay,  rent  by  a  thousand  desires?  " 

Chabanes  paused  and  glanced  down  at  the  dog  as 
though  he  half-expected  an  answer.  Hercules,  at 
this  attention,  licked  his  master's  hand.  Then  the 
dog  looked  out  of  the  window  again  and  gave  a  short 
yelp.  Chabanes  turned  toward  the  window  opposite. 
The  light  had  disappeared. 

"  Now  she  has  sought  her  couch,  Hercules,  and 
Antoinette  softly  strums  her  harpsichord,  as  the  great 
blue  eyes  slowly  close  and  the  fair  white  bosom  rises 


A   CONFIDANT  AND  A  RESOLUTION  91 

and  falls  measuredly.  She  sleeps.  Now  she  wanders 
in  a  fairy  dreamland,  crowded  with  elves  and  fays 
that  float  about  on  the  languid  midnight  air,  beneath 
the  pale  silver  moon.  Each  of  them  loves  her  and 
wants  her  for  queen.  They  fondle  her  long,  soft  hair, 
their  cobweb  wings  lightly  brush  her  cheeks,  they 
whisper  love  messages  into  her  rosy  ears.  Now  the 
fairy  prince  is  coming  to  bear  her  gently  away  to  the 
great  golden  palace  that  overhangs  the  blue  sea. 
What  do  you  suppose  he  resembles,  Hercules?  Has 
he  a  single  feature,  a  single  characteristic,  like  mine? 
Ah,  no,  that  were  too  much  to  expect !  That  were 
more  than  ever  I  could  deserve. 

"  Besides,  Hercules,  it  is  ridiculous,  absurd.  Fairy 
princes  are  just  the  opposite  of  the  plain,  taciturn, 
gloomy  Comte  de  Chabanes,  whose  dull  life  might  be 
filled  with  unutterable  happiness,  could  he  feel  for  a 
moment  that,  in  a  single  quality,  he  was  like  the 
prince  of  her  dreams  —  her  innocent  dreams.  No, 
no,  the  fairy  prince  is  handsome  and  haughty  and  ma- 
jestic, elegant  and  dashing.  Do  you  know  whom  he 
resembles,  Hercules?  He  is  like  the  Due  de  Guise ! " 

Chabanes  sprang  to  a  trophy  of  arms,  seized  a 
sword,  and  brandished  it  in  the  air.  Hercules,  in 
terror,  crawled  cautiously  away  from  him,  growling 
softly. 

"  But  he  is  not  more  brave  than  I.  I,  the  soldier, 
the  adventurer,  the  fighter,  cooped  here  in  a  castle- 
prison,  while  others  draw  and  strike  and  lunge,  while 
France  is  torn  with  strife,  and  the  Due  de  Guise, 
with  a  reckless  laugh  on  his  handsome,  wicked  face, 
dashes  proudly  at  the  head  of  his  halberdiers  into 


92  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

the  face  of  the  enemy.  There  is  the  fairy  prince 
for  the  land  of  enchanted  palaces  and  fire-breathing 
dragons,  for  the  land  of  great  deeds  and  heroic 
fights !  I  am  but  Raoul  de  la  Tour  d'lvoire,  Comte 
de  Chabanes,  chafing  in  an  exile's  prison,  an  official 
major-domo,  an  intermediary  for  M.  and  Mme.  de 
Montpensier,  who  are  my  friends,  whose  friend  I 
am.  Come,  dog,  let  us  fly,  let  us  escape,  let  us 
seek  that  place  where  there  is  fighting  and  the  play 
of  steel,  the  flash  of  sunlight  on  burnished  armor 
and  cleaving  blade,  the  clash  of  shields  and  the 
shouts  of  triumph !  Let  us  show  this  woman,  that 
man,  the  world,  that  we  also  are  brave  to  the 
death;  that  we  can  fight  and  lead  and  go  where 
none  dare  follow;  that  we  are  worthy  of  all  the 
admiration,  all  the  affection,  all  the  love  that  the 
haughtiest  princess  in  Christendom  dare  bestow !  " 

To  see  the  count  at  such  a  moment  as  this  would 
have  been  a  revelation  to  those  that  knew  him  only 
as  the  coolest  and  most  self-possessed  of  men,  never 
moved  to  betray  the  slightest  emotion  beyond  a 
tender  and  watchful  sympathy  for  those  he  loved. 
The  thought  of  this  fact  brought  his  bad  quar- 
ter-hour to  a  temporary  close.  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  laughed  softly,  replaced  the  sword  in  its 
scabbard,  and  began  the  wearisome  process  of  stifling 
feeling  beneath  a  weight  of  well-worn  reasoning. 

"  Hercules,"  he  said,  quietly,  "  thank  your  stars 
you  are  a  dog,  and  not  a  fool.  I,  who  waste  words 
over  an  insane  desire  to  be  a  swashbuckling  Jacques 
Callot,  have,  in  the  first  place,  given  my  word  to  my 
friend  and  benefactor,  the  Prince  de  Montpensier, 


A   CONFIDANT  AND  A  RESOLUTION  93 

that  I  will  remain  here  at  Champigny  and  guard  his 
wife  as  I  would  were  she  my  own,  until  such  time 
as  he  may  be  able  to  secure  for  me  full  exoneration 
from  the  suspicion  of  being  a  Huguenot.  Were  I  to 
carry  into  action  the  least  of  my  wild  projects,  doubt- 
less, within  the  week,  or  fortnight  at  most,  I  should 
be  cast  into  prison  to  languish  in  solitude,  while  M. 
de  Montpensier  prosecuted  the  war  and  Victoire  was 
left  alone. " 

Hercules,  seeing  his  master's  excitement  die  away, 
came  forward  and  placed  his  nose  on  the  count's 
knee,  slyly  glancing  up  at  him. 

"  Besides,  I  could  not  leave  Champigny,  Hercules ; 
my  conscience  would  always  taunt  me  with  having 
fled  from  myself,  from  my  weakness  for  this  glorious 
woman,  whose  companionship  has  grown  to  be  my 
very  life.  Heaven  knows  any  duty  were  easier  to 
face  or  more  difficult  to  escape.  The  world  will 
believe  me  a  coward  if  I  stay  here,  living  a  woman's 
life.  I  shall  know  myself  a  poltroon  if  I  leave." 

He  arose  and  went  to  the  window,  whither  the  dog 
leisurely  followed  him.  "This  is  the  bitter  part  of 
it,  Hercules,"  he  said,  glancing  down  at  the  latter  as 
though  he  fully  believed  the  animal  capable  of  under- 
standing and  sympathizing ;  "  that  woman  yonder,  of 
whom  you  and  I  have  just  dreamed,  is  my  friend's 
wife.  Her  life  and  love  belong  to  him  that  gave 
you  to  me  as  he  has  given  me  his  affection,  his  confi- 
dence, and  his  protection.  You  are  a  good  friend. 
Hercules,  but  you  are  the  least  of  the  gifts  for  which 
I  am  under  such  obligations  to  the  Prince  de  Mont- 
pensier as  in  a  dozen  life-times  I  may  not  discharge. 


94  *  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

He  has  intrusted  me  with  his  honor  and  his  happiness ; 
I  am  to  guard  them  for  him.     Will  you  help  me  ?  " 

The  dog  wagged  his  tail  good-naturedly. 

"  Very  well,  then ;  let  me  talk  to  you,  let  me  argue 
with  you,  and  then  give  me  your  advice  and  opinion 
as  you  would  give  it  to  yourself." 

Hercules  crawled  closer  to  his  master  and  whined 
mournfully.  "  I  would  do  anything  for  you,  but  I 
cannot  understand,"  he  seemed  to  say. 

Chabanes  sighed,  but  continued.  "  To-night  I 
have  found  another  complication  to  make  it  all  the 
harder  for  us.  Antoinette,  who  is  a  good  though 
silly  girl,  believes  she  loves  me,  and  has  hysterically 
confessed  her  passion.  It  is,  of  course,  a  mere 
infatuation,  but  as  such  it  may  have  many  evil  results. 
Victoire  would  dismiss  her  at  the  first  suspicion  that 
her  maid  had  thus  addressed  me.  Antoinette  has 
promised  never  to  mention  the  subject  again.  What 
if  she  forget?  I  cannot  permit  her  to  indulge  in 
senseless  illusions.  She  knows  that  her  ancestors 
have  been  instrumental  in  creating  the  history  of 
France,  and  her  birth  is  noble.  Still,  I  believe  she 
realizes  her  position." 

The  count  paced  several  times  up  and  down  the 
apartment,  a  look  of  deep  concern  on  his  face. 
"  Moreover,"  he  said,  "  she  knows  that  I  love  her 
mistress.  What  if  she  were  to  become  jealous — as 
I  am  jealous?  Then  there  is  this  German  dog  — 
I  beg  your  pardon,"  and  he  bowed  ceremoniously  to 
Hercules  —  "  who  has  an  evil  habit  of  sneaking  and 
may  attempt  to  injure  us.  The  possibilities  of  dis- 
aster are  endless." 


A   CONFIDANT  AND  A  RESOLUTION  95 

Presently  he  began  preparing  to  retire.  "  Let  us 
repeat  our  resolution,  Hercules,"  he  said,  pausing  to 
pat  the  dog's  head  affectionately.  "  Perhaps,  though 
we  may  in  great  measure  consider  ourselves  neces- 
sary to  his  happiness,  inwardly  we  have  betrayed  our 
friend's  trust  and  our  lady's  confidence ;  yet  shall  it 
never  be  known  and  we  will  fight  our  battle  alone, 
suffering  in  silence,  and  cleaving  to  our  duty." 

Antoinette  had  gone  directly  to  the  apartments  of 
the  princess,  whom  she  found  in  a  cheerful  frame  of 
mind  arranging  a  pile  of  old  letters  with  which  her 
table  was  bestrewn.  The  maid  waited  in  respectful 
silence  for  several  minutes  while  her  mistress,  hum- 
ming a  love-ditty  softly  to  herself,  gathered  the 
letters  into  little  heaps  preparatory  to  tying  them 
with  tiny  ribbons.  At  length  Victoire  spoke,  in  her 
preoccupation  scarcely  looking  at  the  waiting  girl. 

"  Do  you  see  that  great  pile  of  letters,  Anne?  You 
cannot  guess  from  whom  I  received  them." 

The  maid  smiled  sorrowfully  as  she  replied,  "  How 
many  guesses  am  I  to  have?" 

"  I  will  give  you  only  one,  stupid  girl ;  if  you  have 
not  divined  the  writer  already  I  have  had  a  mistaken 
idea  of  your  acumen." 

Antoinette  pretended  to  reflect  profoundly. 

"  I  could  wish,"  she  said,  after  a  moment,  "  that 
they  were  avowals  of  devotion  from  another;  but  I 
am  compelled  to  announce  that  my  guess  is  M.  Henri 
de  Guise." 

"  Doubtless  you  have  guessed  well,"  replied  the 
princess,  affecting  an  indifferent  laugh.  "And  who, 
pray,  is  this  other  for  whom  you  are  so  solicitous?" 


96  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Victoire  expected  to  hear  Antoinette  pronounce 
the  prince's  name,  though  she  could  scarcely  under- 
stand how  the  maid  could  have  the  hardihood  to  offer 
her  this  implied  rebuke. 

"Who  else  than  the  devoted  M.  de  Chabanes?" 

"  Fie,  Antoinette !  M.  le  Comte  is  not  a  lover, 
and  his  devotion  is  all  to  the  prince,  our  liege,  not  to 
the  simple  little  girl  with  whom  his  best  friend  has 
been  pleased  to  charge  him."  Then,  her  tone  be- 
coming more  serious,  she  added,  "  But,  true  enough, 
Anne,  we  make  light  of  solemn  subjects.  The  prince 
is  the  noblest  of  husbands,  and  M.  de  Chabanes  the 
truest  of  friends." 

"  And  Henri  de  Guise  is  —  ?  "  suggested  the  maid, 
naively. 

"  Quite  forgotten  —  by  both  of  us.  And  so  we 
will  talk  of  other  things.  How  tangled  my  hair  must 
be  to-night ! " 

When  Victoire  had  fallen  asleep  the  maid  retired 
to  the  adjacent  room  which  served  her  as  a  sleeping- 
apartment,  and  threw  herself,  still  dressed,  upon  her 
couch. 

"  The  fortune-teller's  words  were  true  !  "  she  moaned 
to  herself.  "  He  told  Victoire  that  she  would  love  too 
late,  and  prophesied  that  I  would  love  too  early  and 
in  vain.  Poor  Raoul !  Fate  makes  him  love  her 
and  so  involve  the  happiness  of  all  that  love  him,  as 
well  as  his  own.  Heaven  pity  him  —  and  me ! 
Heaven  grant  that  some  day  I  may  help  him  to 
find  the  joy  and  peace  his  noble  nature  deserves !  " 


IX 

A  HUSBAND  AND  A  FRIEND 

CHABANES,  whose  ill  fortune  in  being  suspected 
of  traitorous  sympathies  would  not  permit  him 
to  take  part  in  the  many  battles  that  had  been,  and 
were,  giving  the  gentlemen  of  France  most  excellent 
opportunities  for  displaying  their  courage  and  soldierly 
accomplishments,  followed  closely  the  events  of  the 
war  which  the  king's  army  was  waging  against  the 
Huguenots.  Being  of  too  tender  a  heart  not  to  loathe 
persecution  and  cruelty,  yet  imbued  with  an  ardent 
admiration  for  true  bravery  and  cool-headed  skill, 
the  count  constantly  wavered  between  a  feeling  of 
thankfulness  that  it  was  not  required  of  him  to 
participate  in  what  seemed  to  him  a  causeless  and 
unworthy  war,  and  an  often  recurring  longing  for 
the  dash  and  cut  of  the  cavalry  charge  or  the  play 
of  the  clashing  steel.  The  count  had  established  a 
post  service  to  Paris  soon  after  his  arrival  at  Cham- 
pigny  and  two  messengers  were  almost  constantly 
on  the  way,  going  and  coming  with  the  latest  infor- 
mation from  the  scenes  of  military  and  political 
activity.  The  princess  was  greatly  pleased  with 
this  enterprise,  which  enabled  her  at  all  times  to 
receive  direct  and  accurate  information  from  her 
husband  and  friends.  Chabanes,  although  feeling 

7 


98  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

that  Victoire's  pleasure  arose  principally  from  the 
fact  that  she  might  be  in  almost  direct  communication 
with  the  fields  of  action  where  fought  the  Due  de 
Guise,  felt  himself  amply  repaid  for  the  trouble  of 
establishing  the  post. 

On  the  first  of  November,  1567,  the  first  messenger 
had  ridden  into  Champigny  with  the  news  of  the 
enterprise  of  Meaux.  The  Amiral  de  Coligny,  the 
Prince  de  Cond6,  and  the  other  Protestant  leaders 
had  made  a  futile  attempt  to  gain  possession  of  the 
person  of  the  king,  who  was  sojourning  at  the  queen's 
palace  of  Monceaux  in  Champagne,  and  to  establish 
a  regency  of  the  Reformed  Church.  The  count,  on 
hearing  this  news,  predicted  to  the  princess  that  an 
immense  quantity  of  blood  would  be  exacted  to  wipe 
out  this  insult  to  the  throne  and  to  the  orthodox 
Church.  A  fortnight  later  came  the  first  verification 
of  this  prediction.  Chabanes'  messengers  brought 
an  account  of  the  sanguinary  battle  of  Saint-Denis 
in  which  the  brave  leader  of  the  Catholics,  Constable 
Anne  de  Montmorency,  found  victory  and  death. 
January,  1568,  brought  the  news  that  Chartres  was 
besieged,  the  Prince  de  Cond6  holding  off  the  Due 
d'Anjou,  now  Lieutenant-General  of  the  realm,  until 
March  twenty-third,  when  the  treaty  of  Longjumeau 
relieved  the  city  and  reinstated  the  Protestant  leaders 
in  their  former  positions.  Chabanes  was  little  de- 
ceived by  this  treaty.  He  knew  too  well  the  cunning 
of  the  queen-mother,  Catherine  de  M^dicis,  not  to 
see  that  the  treaty  had  been  arranged  only  to  relieve 
the  threatened  city,  and  that  peace  would  be  merely 
nominal  and  short-lived.  When  the  Prince  de  Mont- 


A  HUSBAND  AND  A  FRIEND  99 

pensier  returned  to  Champigny,  for  the  first  time 
since  his  marriage,  the  count  assured  him  that  his 
sojourn  there  would  be  brief,  as  a  third  religious  war 
was  imminent.  Indeed,  scarcely  five  months  later, 
the  prince  was  recalled  to  Paris,  war  having  been 
again  declared  as  a  result  of  the  failure  of  the  king  in 
his  attempt  to  arrest  Conde*  and  Coligny  at  Noyers. 

From  the  first  Victoire  had  exhibited  an  intense 
interest  in  the  movements  of  the  two  armies  and  in 
the  results  of  the  various  actions,  which  the  count 
forecasted,  explained,  and  detailed  at  great  length  for 
her.  It  did  not  take  Chabanes  long  to  discover  that 
this  interest  arose  scarcely  from  religious  zeal  or 
concern  in  the  martial  accomplishments  of  the  Prince 
de  Montpensier.  It  was  the  great  success  of  Henri 
de  Guise  that  filled  Victoire  with  elation.  The  repu- 
tation for  bravery  and  generalship,  which  the  young 
man  commenced  building  at  Saint  Denis,  and  which  he 
augmented  at  the  siege  of  Chartres,  became  almost 
the  sole  topic  of  thought  and  conversation  with 
Victoire.  When  she  heard  that  Guise  was  held  by 
many  to  be  the  superior  in  warfare  of  the  king's 
brother,  the  Due  d'Anjou,  her  delight  passed  all 
bounds.  She  continually  spoke  to  the  count  of 
Guise's  accomplishments  and  daring,  as  a  child  tells 
over  and  over  the  imaginary  deeds  of  a  fairyland 
hero. 

Almost  the  first  evidence  of  that  confidence  which 
Victoire  placed  in  Chabanes  and  which  filled  the  count 
with  such  inexplicable  pride  and  emotion  was  her 
relation  to  him  of  her  former  attachment  for  Guise. 
The  count  listened  to  her  in  grave  silence  as  she 


100  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

told  how  passionately  fond  of  the  young  duke  she 
had  once  believed  herself  to  be,  adding  that  the  folly 
of  the  infatuation  was  now  clear  to  her,  and  that,  aside 
from  an  ardent  admiration  for  Guise,  there  remained 
no  trace  of  a  childish  fancy.  Chabanes  sighed  with 
relief  at  this  latter  statement  and  when  the  princess 
naively  declared  that  the  souvenir  of  her  devotion  to 
the  Due  de  Guise  would  always  be  an  invincible  safe- 
guard against  the  gallantries  of  other  men. 

When  at  last,  in  hot  shame  and  self-condemnation, 
Chabanes  was  compelled  to  acknowledge  to  himself 
that  he  loved  Victoire,  he  was  also  forced  to  admit 
that  his  jealousy  of  Guise  was  as  unbounded  as  his 
passion  for  the  princess.  Day  by  day,  apace  with  his 
worship  of  this  lovely  creature,  grew  his  dread  of  the 
slightest  mention  of  the  duke  by  Victoire,  until  he 
hated  his  rival  in  the  lady's  esteem  with  all  his  heart. 
And  it  seemed  that  the  subject,  instead  of  gradually 
wearing  out,  became  more  and  more  interesting  to 
Victoire. 

Chabanes  felt  that,  since  Guise  was  the  only  one 
that  had  ever  spoken  to  the  princess  of  love,  her 
natural,  unrealized  yearning  made  her  speak  so  often 
of  one  that  had  evinced  so  gratifying  an  interest  in 
herself.  The  count,  with  all  the  strength  of  his 
nature  and  his  passion,  yearned  to  satisfy  her  evident 
longing.  His  reason  bade  him  reproach  the  fate  that 
had  permitted  Henri  de  Guise  the  inestimable  happi- 
ness and  advantage  of  professing  love  to  Victoire,  and 
that  had  forbidden  him  ever  to  mention  his  own 
passion,  which  was  so  inexpressibly  vaster  and  purer 
than  any  ardor  of  which  Guise  was  capable.  How- 


A  HUSBAND  AND  A  FRIEND  IOI 

ever,  when  peace  had  been  declared,  Chabanes  was 
filled  with  a  hope  that  the  prowess  of  Guise  would 
no  longer  occupy  so  important  a  place  in  the  conver- 
sation of  Victoire.  But  even  after  Montpensier's 
return  to  Champigny  her  wonted  interest  in  the 
subject  did  not  abate.  Little  by  little  the  convic- 
tion grew  on  Chabanes  that  this  young  woman  had 
enshrined  Henri  de  Guise,  her  girlhood  lover,  high 
on  the  pedestal  of  an  abstract  ideal ;  that,  never  hav- 
ing experienced  an  intense  human  love  and  never  hav- 
ing known  herself  to  be  the  object  of  another  passion 
than  that  which  Guise  had  professed,  her  admiration 
for  one  who,  skilled  in  the  arts  of  gallantry,  had 
shown  himself  to  her  only  in  the  best  possible  light, 
had  become  a  form  of  hero-worship  that  the  strongest 
influences  would  have  difficulty  in  shaking. 

Toward  her  husband  Victoire  exhibited  a  dutiful 
tolerance.  He  was  not  a  lovable  man,  with  his  rough, 
soldier-like  manners  and  his  air  of  conscious  proprie- 
torship, and  Chabanes,  who  best  knew  that  under  this 
unalluring  exterior  beat  a  true,  noble  heart,  felt  that 
Victoire  was  only  thankful  for  every  circumstance 
that  required  her  husband's  presence  away  from 
Champigny. 

The  prince  himself  was  not  slow  to  notice  Vic- 
toire's  thinly  veneered  indifference  to  him,  as  well 
as  her  excessive  fondness  of  all  mention  of  Guise. 
Chabanes  felt  that  his  friend  sedulously  avoided  the 
subject,  and  he  began  to  fear  the  hour  when  jealousy 
should  awaken  in  the  breast  of  the  prince.  Mont- 
pensier  ever  wore  his  heart  on  his  sleeve,  and  the 
count  foresaw  much  unhappiness  for  the  princess 


102  A  PAR  FIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

when  her  husband's  hatred  of  Guise  and  suspicion  of 
herself  should  be  aroused. 

Victoire's  first  request,  when  the  prince  had  re- 
turned to  Champigny,  was  that  he  should  promise 
her  to  forget  his  ill-feeling  toward  Guise.  In  the 
joy  of  meeting  he  had  yielded.  Later,  when  constant 
mention  of  the  duke  by  his  wife  became  irritating  to 
Montpensier,  he  regretted  his  thoughtless  promise 
and  cast  about  him  for  means  of  retrieving  it.  The 
princess,  on  her  part,  felt  that,  her  husband  having 
freely  forgiven  what  had  been  done  in  a  fit  of  childish 
impulse,  she  might  with  equal  freedom  speak  of  the 
duke  on  all  occasions  without  offending  her  lord. 

The  old  wound  had  never  entirely  closed,  however, 
and  it  was  painfully  reopened-  when,  one  bright 
summer  afternoon,  the  prince  reprimanded  his  wife 
sharply,  bringing  an  angry  flush  to  the  cheek  of 
Chabanes  as  well  as  to  hers. 

They  were  all  three  riding  down  the  long,  leafy 
avenue  that  led  from  the  chateau  to  that  portion  of 
the  river  Vienne  that  widened  into  a  sort  of  lagoon, 
surrounded  by  a  dense  forest,  whose  interlacing 
branches  formed  a  canopy  for  the  still,  clear  body 
of  water,  and  whose  green  terraces  walled  it  in,  so 
that,  but  for  a  few  hours  at  noon,  the  sun  never  shone 
on  its  surface.  Victoire  had  christened  the  spot 
"Apollo's  Lake,"  and  it  was  here  that  she  and  the 
count  spent  many  a  delightful  afternoon  drifting  over 
the  lagoon  in  a  small  skiff,  reading  and  conversing, 
and  occasionally  blending  their  voices  in  light-hearted 
song.  Chabanes  was  well  skilled  in  playing  the  lute 
and  possessed  of  an  exceptional  voice,  while  the 


A   HUSBAND  AND  A   FRIEND  103 

princess  could  on  occasion  pour  from  her  beautiful 
white  throat  the  most  entrancing  melody  imaginable. 
As  the  party  approached  the  water,  Chabanes,  in 
illustrating  some  point  in  an  explanation  of  the  arts 
of  the  chase,  lifted  his  beautiful  black  horse,  Nero, 
over  a  fairly  high  bush,  at  which  the  princess  clapped 
her  hands  in  delight,  exclaiming  that  there  was  but 
one  other  in  France  that  could  exactly  duplicate  the 
feat. 

"And,  who,  pray,  may  that  be?"  inquired  the 
count,  smiling  with  pleasure  at  the  compliment. 

"  I  have  seen  M.  de  Guise  perform  the  same  ex- 
ploit at  Mezieres,"  replied  Victoire,  naively. 

Montpensier,  who  was  beaming  admiringly  on  the 
count,  turned  sharply  to  his  wife  and  said  in  a  tone 
of  anger,  "  Madame,  do  you  never  tire  of  the  sound 
of  that  name  ?  Let  me  assure  you  that  I  do." 

The  princess  turned  very  red,  but,  with  admirable 
self-control,  refrained  from  answering.  Chabanes 
contented  himself  with  clutching  his  bridle  fiercely 
and  biting  his  lips  till  they  bled ;  his  impulse  for  the 
moment  was  strongly  suggestive  of  forgetting  his 
friendship  for  Montpensier  and  making  him  swallow 
his  ill-mannered  words.  The  princess  was  the  first 
to  regain  her  composure,  continuing  her  conversa- 
tion on  another  subject  as  though  nothing  had  oc- 
curred to  mar  the  serenity  of  the  outing.  The  count 
noticed  that,  after  that  afternoon,  she  no  longer  spoke 
of  Guise  in  her  husband's  presence,  though  she  did 
not  in  the  least  restrain  herself  on  this  subject  when 
alone  with  Chabanes  or  with  others. 

The  day  before  his  departure,  in  August,  for  Paris 


IO4  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

the  prince,  on  the  pretext  of  enjoying  a  farewell  hawk- 
ing expedition  with  the  count,  carried  off  his  friend 
into  the  forest ;  but,  although  a  bird  sat  gravely  on 
the  wrist  of  each,  the  jesses  of  neither  tercelet  nor 
falcon  were  slipped. 

For  a  •  half-hour  the  two  men  rode  in  silence 
through  the  forest,  Chabanes  feeling  intuitively  that 
the  prince  desired  to  speak  to  him  of  Victoire.  At 
last  Montpensier  broke  the  silence,  saying,  "  Raoul, 
grant  me  one  more  favor.  Give  me  your  honest 
opinion  of  my  domestic  affairs." 

Chabanes  could  scarcely  restrain  a  wince,  notwith- 
standing the  request  had  been  foreseen  and  expected. 
He  did  not  reply  at  once,  and  when  he  did  speak  his 
words  came  slowly  and  thoughtfully. 

"Judging  by  the  usual  order  of  our  households, 
Charles,  you  have  little  ground  for  complaint.  You 
have  a  wife  of  remarkable  beauty,  wit,  and  virtue, 
who  resides  during  your  absences  in  a  neighbor- 
hood unfrequented  by  temptations  —  " 

"  Watched  over  by  the  most  faithful  of  friends  and 
the  wisest  of  men,"  interrupted  the  prince,  earnestly. 

Chabanes  blushed  furiously ;  his  imagination  tried 
to  persuade  him  that  his  friend's  words  were  pervaded 
by  a  delicate  sarcasm,  but  the  implicit  confidence 
betrayed  by  the  prince's  affectionate  expression 
was  perfectly  reassuring.  Montpensier,  on  his  side, 
attributed  the  count's  embarrassment  to  modesty. 

"  It  would  seem,  Charles,"  continued  Chabanes, 
after  a  moment's  silence,  "  that  your  domestic  affairs 
leave  little  to  be  desired,  —  except  love,"  he  added, 
after  a  short  pause,  without  varying  his  tone. 


A   HUSBAND  AND  A  FRIEND  1 05 

Montpensier  regarded  his  friend  with  astonishment. 
"  I  do  not  think  I  quite  understand." 

"  I  know  it  is  not  generally  considered  a  very  nec- 
essary adjunct  to  domestic  completeness,"  continued 
the  count,  "  but  I  cannot  help  feeling  that  it  would  be 
a  wonderfully  valuable  addition  in  any  case.  At  all 
events,  Charles,  why  do  you  not  try  to  attain  it?" 

The  prince  eyed  his  friend  searchingly.  "  If  any- 
one else  were  to  talk  to  me  in  that  way  I  should 
believe  he  was  laughing  at  me.  You  know  as  well 
as  I,  Raoul,  that  I  am  scarcely  the  man  to  inspire  any 
woman  with  the  tender  passion.  I  am  fit  for  fight- 
ing, —  nothing  else ;  from  love  and  intrigue  I  am  in 
all  ways  barred.  So  long  as  I  am  able  to  maintain 
my  wife's  respect,  I  shall  feel  that  I  have  accom- 
plished much.  I  believe  I  do  love  her  in  a  way, 
for  I  cannot  bear  her  to  show  the  slightest  liking 
for  others,  and  that  is  jealousy,  is  it  not?  And 
jealousy  is  a  symptom  of  love,  is  it  not?" 

The  count  did  not  answer  these  questions.  "  So 
long  as  you  believe  yourself  incapable  of  command- 
ing your  wife's  love  she  is  not  likely  to  change  her 
attitude  toward  you.  If  you  have  never  tried,  how 
do  you  know  that  you  cannot  make  her  love  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  only  too  ready  to  try !  "  cried  the  prince, 
despairingly.  "  But  how  shall!  begin,  and  when?  " 

"Begin  now  and  in  the  only  possible  manner. 
Treat  her  with  solicitude  and  affection ;  anticipate 
her  wishes  and  shape  her  desires;  show  her  the 
right  path  when  she  falls  into  the  wrong  one;  in 
short,  devote  yourself  to  her  happiness  and  welfare.  If 
you  do  that  scrupulously  —  not  servilely,  mind  you ! 


106  A  PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

—  there  is  no  woman  on  earth  but  will  admire  you, 
like  you,  and  —  who  knows?  —  love  you." 

"  But  you  do  all  that,  Raoul ;  she  has  told  me  so 
herself.  Does  she  love  you,  then?" 

"  I  am  not  her  husband." 

"True,  but  I  will  warrant  that  your  influence  over 
her  is  already  far  greater  than  her  husband's.  And, 
really,  Raoul,  if  you  have  been  to  her  all  that  she 
tells  me  you  have  been,  I  could  scarcely  blame  her 
for  worshipping  you.  Perhaps,  after  all,  I  should 
be  thankful  for  this  inclination  of  hers  for  Guise ;  it 
may  prevent  her  loving  you." 

Montpensier  spoke  these  last  words  lightly  and 
without  the  least  desire  to  wound  the  count,  whom 
he  expected  to  receive  them  in  the  spirit  in  which 
they  were  given.  The  latter  could  not  but  suffer  the 
more  at  realizing  this  fact,  and  his  interest  in  Victoire 
resented  the  unseemly  levity. 

"  A  moment  ago,  Charles,"  he  said,  quietly,  "  you 
asked  me  if  jealousy  was  not  a  symptom  of  love. 
It  is  rather  an  evidence  of  selfishness.  If  you  will 
accept  my  advice  you  will  crush  it  out  of  your  heart, 
and,  above  all  things,  you  will  never  let  it  betray 
itself  to  your  wife.  Hers  is  a  sensitive  nature,  whose 
pride  ill  accepts  such  affronts  as  jealousy  prompts. 
She  married  you  without  knowing  you,  and  because 
she  felt  that  the  sacrifice  was  demanded  by  her  duty 
to  her  father  and  to  her  king.  If  you  truly  love  her 
you  will  ever  bear  this  in  mind,  and  you  will  remem- 
ber that  she  is  in  many  ways  a  child,  and  as  such  to 
be  indulgently  treated.  I  believe  she  loves  no  man 
as  you  would  have  her  love  you,  and  I  as  firmly 


A  HUSBAND  AND  A  FRIEND  IO/ 

believe  that  it  is  in  your  power,  through  the  mani- 
festations of  a  violent  jealousy,  not  only  to  earn  her 
hatred,  but  to  force  her  into  at  least  a  fancied  affec- 
tion for  another." 

"  But  you  also  believe  that  I  can  make  her  love 
me?" 

"  You  can  only  try,  as  is  your  duty.  If  you  suc- 
ceed you  have  won  the  purest,  noblest  heart  in  the 
world  and  I  shall  be  the  first  to  stifle  envy  and  con- 
gratulate you." 

"And  if  I  fail?" 

"Your  love  will  have  an  opportunity  of  proving 
itself;  it  can  devote  itself  to  the  happiness  of  its 
object." 

Montpensier  flecked  a  fly  from  his  horse's  mane. 
"  Do  you  truly  believe,  Raoul,"  he  said,  earnestly, 
"that  your  advice  is  feasible?  Jealousy,  disap- 
pointed love,  and  longing  are  said  to  be  terrible 
things.  I  feel  that  as  yet  I  have  known  but  half 
their  terrors,  but  you  have  known  nothing  of  them. 
You  speak  of  love  abstractly ;  I  suffer  from  a  concrete 
instance.  Does  not  the  very  selfishness  of  love  pre- 
clude such  sacrifice  as  you  advocate?" 

"  I  insist  again  that  true  love  is  the  very  opposite 
of  selfishness.  Until  you  can  realize  this,  you  can 
never  win  a  true  woman,  for  you  will  not  deserve 
one." 

"  Ah,  well,"  sighed  the  prince,  "  you  are  doubtless 
right.  I  dare  not  question  the  correctness  of  your 
views.  And  now,"  he  continued,  extending  his  hand, 
which  the  other  clasped  warmly,  "  since  you  are  in 
all  things  my  friend,  you  owe  me  your  candid  advice 


108  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

in  all  things.  Tell  me  the  position  of  Guise  in  Vic- 
toire's  affections,  and  the  attitude  that  I  should  pre- 
serve toward  him  with  her." 

"  He  is  her  childhood  hero,  whose  faults  are  un- 
known to  her,  and  whose  virtues  are  half  of  her  own 
fancy  and  half  of  his  own  affectation.  He  cannot 
but  fall  from  his  pedestal  when  she  has  seen  him  as 
he  is  and  knows  him  as  you  and^  I  and  all  France 
know  him.  The  shattering  of  the  idol  will  be  very 
painful  to  her,  and  woe  to  him  that  throws  it  down 
before  her  proud  eyes.  If  you  would  save  her  from 
suffering,  you  will  not  discourage  her  harmless  illu- 
sions, though  they  hurt  you  when  you  misconstrue 
them.  Now  her  liking  for  Guise  is  a  child's,  and 
without  wrong;  some  day  her  woman's  heart  will 
crave  a  love  as  great  as  it  will  be  capable  of  bestow- 
ing in  return,  and  Henri  de  Lorraine  will  be  forgotten. 
You  must  give  to  her  that  love,  Charles.  Bide  your 
time,  improve  your  opportunities,  and,  as  you  love 
her,  try  to  save  her  from  the  pain  the  sight  of  the 
broken  idol  at  her  feet  would  cause  her.  In  a  word, 
bear  with  her  now  in  every  way,  that  in  the  future, 
when  she  becomes  in  every  sense  a  woman,  you  can 
offer  her  the  love  for  which  her  soul  must  hunger." 

"  I  thank  God  for  so  noble  a  friend  !  "  exclaimed 
Montpensier,  deeply  touched  by  Chabanes'  earnest- 
ness. "  With  your  help,  Raoul,  I  ought  to  win  her ; 
and  I  swear  to  you  that  I  will  try !  " 

Chabanes  had  spoken  almost  feverishly;  now  he 
cast  his  eyes  downward  and  did  not  reply. 

"  And  now  let  us  return,"  continued  the  prince ; 
"  to-morrow,  you  know,  you  are  again  lord  and  mas- 


A  HUSBAND  AND  A  FRIEND  1 09 

ter  of  Champigny.  When  I  return  I  am  sure  of 
bringing  your  welcome  to  the  court.  The  queen- 
mother  is  at  present  rather  disposed  to  grant  favors 
to  the  house  of  Bourbon.  As  it  is,  I  cannot  help 
being  thankful  that  you  are  not  yet  persona  grata 
in  Paris,  since  Champigny  and  Victoire  would  lose 
you." 


X 

A  VOLUME  AND  AN  APOSTASY 

AS  summer  waned  into  autumn  and  autumn 
lengthened  into  winter,  the  Comte  de  Chabanes 
continued  his  arduous  fight  against  that  terribly  eager 
yearning  that  always  accompanies  a  great  passion,  — 
the  desire  to  express  it.  By  night  he  writhed  in  the 
agony  of  combat  with  the  seemingly  invincible  temp- 
tation to  throw  himself  on  his  knees  before  his  heart's 
mistress  and  pour  out  the  love  that  threatened  to 
consume  him  should  it  be  much  longer  restrained. 
By  day  he  struggled  fiercely  with  the  desire  to  fly 
from  her  presence  and  spare  himself  the  dishonor  of 
infidelity  to  his  friend,  even  at  the  expense  of  sacri- 
ficing his  promise  to  remain  at  Champigny.  Doubt- 
less, had  Victoire  offered  Chabanes  the  slightest 
grounds  on  which  to  base  the  hope  that  she  could 
ever  consciously  regard  him  as  other  than  a  most 
trusted  and  faithful  friend,  he  must  have  at  once 
yielded  in  despair.  The  princess,  however,  by  her 
every  word  and  action  unconsciously  held  him  off,  or 
rather,  helped  him  to  control  himself;  for  her  attitude 
toward  him  was  constantly  and  distinctly  that  of  an 
admiring  and  trustful  friend,  innocent  of  any  deeper 
interest.  Her  gratitude  was  deep  and  her  affection 
warm,  and  never  were  brother  and  sister  on  more 


A    VOLUME  AND  AN  APOSTASY  ill 

intimate  and  sympathetic  terms.  Indeed  her  very 
kindness  often  served  to  augment  the  count's  suffer- 
ings beyond  the  endurance  point,  and  he  was  com- 
pelled several  times  to  leave  her  abruptly,  offering 
the  first  excuse  that  suggested  itself  to  his  distracted 
mind. 

The  Due  de  Guise  did  not  diminish  in  favor  with 
the  princess  as  a  subject  of  conversation.  Chabanes, 
feeling  how  keen  was  Victoire's  pleasure  in  discours- 
ing of  and  listening  to  the  young  duke's  praise, 
stifled  his  jealousy  and  sought  in  every  way  possible 
to  add  to  the  happiness  of  his  heart's  mistress.  Time 
and  again,  however,  he  was  on  the  point  of  betraying 
such  emotion  as  that  against  which  he  had  warned 
the  prince. 

One  gloomy  February  day  the  count  and  Victoire 
decided  to  spend  the  evening  before  the  fireplace 
in  the  great  hall.  Their  conversation  at  first  was 
unusually  spirited  and  merry,  shafts  of  flashing  wit 
breaking  themselves  in  rapid  succession  against  shields 
of  brilliant  repartee.  At  length,  when  they  had 
wearied  themselves  with  laughing,  Victoire  proposed 
that  they  read  aloud,  producing  at  the  same  time  a 
small  and  apparently  new  book.  Chabanes  remarked 
that  the  volume  bore  the  name  of  R6my  Belleau,  the 
celebrated  poet  of  Catherine  de  Me"dicis's  "  Pleiades." 

The  book  contained  several  hundred  lines  of  indif- 
ferent verse,  and  the  count,  though  he  execrated  the 
poetry  of  the  period,  read  it  aloud  with  the  best 
expression  he  could  command.  It  told  the  story  of 
the  amours  of  a  great  lady  with  a  lord  who  for  years 
successfully  diverted  the  jealousy  of  his  mistress' 


112  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

husband,  until  the  death  of  the  latter  permitted  the 
loving  pair  to  marry,  which,  in  the  poem,  they  did 
with  all  haste.  Victoire  displayed  a  keen  interest  in 
this  story,  a  circumstance  that  greatly  disquieted  the 
count,  who  considered  the  poem  a  worse  than  worth- 
less bit  of  frivolity.  It  was  sufficiently  character- 
istic of  the  tastes  of  the  profligate  court,  and  the 
more  pernicious  and  jocular  portions  had  been 
carefully  marked.  When  the  count  had  finished 
reading,  Victoire  demanded,  "  Well,  what  do  you 
think  of  it?" 

"  It  possesses  some  interest,  no  merit  as  to  form, 
and  is  most  pernicious  in  its  trend." 

"  WThy  do  you  think  it  pernicious,  Raoul?" 

"  Because  it  condones  the  most  flagrant  infidelity, 
and  dishonesty  instead  of  truth  triumphs  in  the  end," 
replied  the  count,  with  conviction. 

"  But  it  is  all  so  amusing,"  insisted  Victoire. 

"  That  is  exactly  where  the  demoralizing  effect  of 
the  poem  gains  its  advantage,"  replied  Raoul.  "  One 
is  led  to  laugh  at  the  most  serious  matters  in  the 
world,  and  to  regard  with  derision  and  levity  the  most 
sacred  of  conventions." 

"Why,  I  had  no  idea  you  were  such  a  moralist, 
Raoul !  "  exclaimed  the  princess.  "  M.  de  Guise,  in 
speaking  of  the  book,  assured  me  that  it  was  one  of 
the  most  popular  that  have  been  published  in  France 
for  years." 

Chabanes  turned  very  white,  but  did  not  reply  for 
several  moments.  At  length,  "  Did  M.  de  Guise  send 
you  this  book?"  he  asked. 

Victoire  nodded  without  looking  at  him.     She  was 


A    VOLUME  AND  AN  APOSTASY  113 

scarcely  thinking  of  his  question.  She  did  not  note 
his  emotion,  his  seriousness,  his  anger.  At  length  he 
continued  in  a  low,  studied  tone,  "  Victoire,  you  must 
be  careful  of  M.  de  Guise." 

"  Careful  ?  "  repeated  she,  in  a  tone  of  wonder. 

"  Yes.  Too  great  an  interest  in  him  may  some  time 
prove  very  dangerous." 

She  was  about  to  interrupt  again,  but  he  anticipated 
her. 

"  He  is  an  ambitious  and  accomplished  courtier,  and 
all  that  that  implies.  However,  you  do  not  know  the 
court  of  France,  Victoire,  or  you  would  hesitate  long 
before  you  placed  great  trust  in  one  that  occupies  a 
high  place  there.  Do  you  think  that  Charles  would 
relish  the  fact  that  his  former  rival  and  openly  avowed 
enemy  sent  you  such  a  book  as  this  ?  " 

Raoul  paused  to  note  well  the  effect  of  his  words. 
He  was  not  afraid  to  tread  on  dangerous  ground,  but 
it  hurt  him  beyond  measure  to  inflict  pain  on  Vic- 
toire. She  had  listened  to  him  in  apparent  wonder, 
as  though  she  scarcely  believed  her  ears. 

"  Why,  Raoul,"  she  said,  with  strained  gentleness, 
"what  makes  you  say  such  things?  M.  de  Guise  is 
a  Christian  gentleman,  the  acknowledged  head  of  the 
great  Catholic  Church  of  France.  How  could  such 
a  man  be  dangerous  except  as  an  enemy  to  wrong 
and  ignominy?  Charles,  my  husband,  has  forgiven 
M.  de  Guise  the  act  of  youthful  impulse  that  for  a 
time  separated  them,  and  he  would  not  be  so  petty 
as  to  object  to  his  wife  receiving  respectful  attention 
from  the  first  gentleman  of  France." 

"  Ah,  but  the  danger,  Victoire,  lies  in  the  proneness 

8 


114  A   PARF1T  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

to  forget  one's  duty  to  another  in  such  an  admiration 
as  you  profess  for  M.  de  Guise." 

Victoire  did  not  speak  for  several  minutes. 
"  Raoul,"  she  asked,  thoughtfully,  at  length,  "  how 
much  do  you  think  Charles  cares  for  me  ?  " 

Chabanes  eagerly  grasped  the  opportunity  to  bend 
the  conversation  to  his  own  purpose.  "  He  esteems 
you  above  all  women,"  he  replied  warmly.  "You 
could  scarcely  have  a  more  profound  admirer." 

"Yet  he  does  not  love  me,"  said  Victoire,  in  a 
tone  of  conviction. 

"  Perhaps  not  as  some  men  would  love,"  admitted 
Raoul ;  "  but  in  his  own  true  way  he  holds  you  very 
dear." 

"  I  have  always  tried  hard  to  do  all  my  duty  by 
him,  Raoul ;  I  have  tried  to  be  in  all  senses  his  wife 
—  to  preside  over  his  household  as  he  would  like 
me  to,  and  all  that,  you  know.  Of  course  I  did  not 
have  to  marry  him,  I  suppose;  I  might  have  left 
France  or  gone  into  a  convent,  or  something.  But, 
as  I  did  marry  him,  I  felt  it  my  simple  duty  to  try 
to  be  in  every  way  his  wife." 

She  paused  again  and'meditatively  regarded  the  fire. 
Chabanes,  unable  to  find  his  desired  words,  was  silent. 

Presently  she  spoke  again.  "  Men  love  differently, 
do  they  not,  Raoul?  You  have  never  told  me  if  you 
have  ever  loved  any  one  —  I  do  not  believe  you  ever 
have.  When  a  man  like  you  conceives  a  fancy  for 
anything,  be  it  falcon  or  horse  or  woman,  he  does 
not  sleep  until  he  gets  it;  am  I  not  right?  No 
answer,  Sir  Modesty?  Satisfy  my  curiosity  by  tell- 
ing me  how  you  would  love  a  woman ! " 


A    VOLUME  AND  AN  APOSTASY  115 

She  looked  at  Chabanes  with  an  air  of  mock  defi- 
ance, as  though  challenging  him  to  a  duel  of  wit,  and 
she  was  at  a  loss  to  understand  his  seriousness.  He 
was  very  pale,  and  she  feared  she  had  hurt  him  by 
touching  some  old  wound  the  existence  of  which  had 
been  concealed  from  her. 

"  If  I  were  to  love  a  woman,  Victoire,"  he  said, 
with  forced  calmness,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  "  I 
would  make  her  happiness  the  sole  object  of  my  life ; 
I  would  spare  no  sacrifice  within  honor  to  bring  her 
all  pleasures;  I  would  defend  her  from  all  harm  as 
savagely  as  a  tigress  defends  her  cubs;  I  would 
spend  my  days  in  attempting  to  anticipate  her  every 
desire.  And  if  I  might  have  this  woman  for  my 
wife,  and  have  her  love  equal  to  my  own,  I  would 
teach  her  to  help  me  by  every  thought  and  act  of 
our  commingled  lives  to  attempt  the  expression  of 
my  infinite  gratitude  to  the  God  that  had  so  incom- 
parably blessed  us. 

"  Dull  hearts,  weary  with  the  tedium  of  all  that 
makes  life  hopelessly  melancholy,  exhausted  by  the 
long  chains  of  failures,  griefs,  and  disappointments 
that  constitute  the  strands  of  a  galling  existence, 
little  by  little  sink  into  the  tombs  of  themselves. 
Often  when  they  seem  to  have  gone  so  deep  in  their 
despair  that  no  power  in  heaven  or  on  earth  can 
lift  them  up,  the  strong  hand  of  Love  holds  forth  to 
raise  them  above  the  tallest  pinnacles  of  their  latent 
ideals.  As  Aurora  gilds  the  cloud-gates  of  the  dawn 
with  celestial  fire,  so  the  enchantments  of  love  illu- 
mine the  mists  of  melancholy  with  the  effulgence  of 
hope,  and  what  was  erstwhile  gloom  transmutes  itself 


Il6  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

to  gorgeous  splendor.  The  sluggish  pulses  of  the 
soul  are  quickened  into  leaping  torrents  of  divine 
passion ;  despair's  deep  roots  are  fiercely  torn  from 
waking  hearts  which  afterwards  show  no  trace  or  scar ; 
the  weary  spirit  rises  from  the  dust  and  mire  of  aim- 
lessness  to  soar  toward  gleaming  mountain-tops  afar, 
borne  on  the  sturdy,  buoyant  wings  of  hope.  Lonely, 
lonely  souls  find  solace  in  the  sweet  sympathy  of 
yearning  mates;  a  thousand  crushing  fardels  lose 
their  weight,  and  birdlike  vanish  in  the  distant  air. 
Love  is  God's  messenger;  the  word  he  bears  is 
worth  the  wealth  of  all  eternity.  Hand  in  hand, 
heart  to  heart,  lips  to  lips,  while  pulses  leap  and 
warm  cheeks  glow,  and  souls  commingle  in  love's 
ecstasy,  we  read  the  secret  of  the  universe,  the  word 
of  Heaven,  the  very  thoughts  of  God !  " 

The  count  paused  breathless.  Victoire,  leaning 
forward  in  her  chair,  with  parted  lips  and  heaving 
bosom,  was  drinking  in  his  eager  words. 

"  Raoul,"  she  cried,  "  what  a  noble  man  you 
are ! " 

Chabanes'  color  increased.  He  crushed  the  rising 
tumult  within  his  breast  and  continued  more  calmly. 

"  In  all  things,  Victoire,  God  reveals  himself  to  us, 
but  should  we  be  without  love  we  may  yet  be  incred- 
ulous. But  when  He  has  blessed  us  with  a  portion 
of  His  very  Divinity  and  shared  with  us  the  great 
secret  of  the  universe,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  Think, 
Victoire,  what  a  heaven  love  can  make  of  this  earth, 
when  two  beings  may  live  entirely  through  each 
other  in  the  completest  sympathy  and  may  pass 
their  lives  together  in  the  furtherance  of  His  divine 


A    VOLUME  AND  AN  APOSTASY  1 17 

will  and  the  daily  endeavor  to  approach  a  little  nearer 
to  the  steps  of  His  throne." 

The  princess  stood  at  his  side,  her  hand  resting 
trustfully  in  his,  which  trembled  with  the  violence  of 
his  emotion.  "  My  friend  !  "  she  said,  again  and  again, 
infinite  pride  and  affection  permeating  her  tone. 

Conscience-stricken,  he  shrank  beneath  her  words. 
"  How  she  would  loathe  me,"  he  thought,  "  if  she 
knew  that  every  word  I  utter  is  secretly  addressed  to 
her,  the  wife  of  my  friend  and  the  woman  that  has 
implicitly  given  me  all  her  trust !  "  More  terribly 
than  ever  was  he  consumed  by  the  old  desire  to  fall 
at  her  feet  and  acknowledge  his  passion,  —  tell  her  of 
the  fierce,  wild  fire  that  burned  in  his  soul  and  that 
nothing  could  ever  relieve  but  its  fullest  expression. 
He  gathered  his  strength  to  fight  the  fearful  battle, 
and  by  sheer  will-force  replaced  the  desire  with  a 
resolve  to  use  this  opportunity  for  the  furthering  of 
his  friend's  felicity.  He  thought  again  of  the  book 
that  Guise  had  been  so  unprincipled  as  to  place  in  the 
princess'  hands,  and  he  was  filled  with  indignation. 

"  And,  now,"  he  said,  with  strenuous  deliberation, 
"  I  am  going  to  tell  you  how  a  woman  ought  to  love 
a  man  to  whom  she  is  married." 

The  princess  flushed  hotly  at  these  words,  foresee- 
ing her  first  rebuke  from  his  lips.  Chabanes  did  not 
hesitate. 

"  A  true  woman  should  cleave  to  him  that  she  has 
sworn  to  cherish,  with  all  the  determination  and 
strength  that  her  heart  and  soul  can  muster.  She 
should  make  it  her  constant  endeavor  to  crush  out  of 
her  life  every  interest  that  is  not  his.  She  should 


I  1 8  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

repulse  every  thought  that  rebels  against  his  right- 
ful place  in  her  affections  as  she  would  repel  the 
dishonorable  advances  of  an  unprincipled  suitor. 
All  her  life  should  be  unequivocally  devoted  to  her 
domestic  relations,  so  that  not  the  slightest  dis- 
loyalty of  thought  can  ever  creep  into  her  mind, 
for  it  is  the  mental  infidelity  that  always  precedes 
dishonor  and  that  is  treachery  in  itself.  You,  Vic- 
toire,  should  see  in  this  evilly  marked  volume  only 
that  which  passes  the  bounds  of  chivalry  and  is 
indicative  of  ungodly  design.  If  your  conscience 
fails  to  teach  you  that  its  purpose  is  base  and  that 
your  duty  to  your  religion  and  your  God,  as  well  as 
to  your  husband,  should  cause  you  to  despise  it,  then 
you  need  to  fall  on  your  knees  and  pray  to  the  Holy 
Virgin  to  protect  you  from  impending  evil.  You, 
Victoire,  are  married  to  a  man  infinitely  superior  to 
all  those  among  whom  he  is  thrown,  a  man  whose 
courage,  principle,  and  devotion  to  duty  are  unsur- 
passed. He  loves  you  with  all  the  intensity  of  his 
sensitive  nature,  yearns  for  your  affection  and  sym- 
pathy, and  offers  you  all  his  thoughts,  his  hopes,  and 
his  life.  And  you  do  not  appreciate ;  you  make  no 
effort  to  realize  his  worth;  you  see  only  his  faults, 
which  you  should  overlook,  and  you  pass  over  his 
virtues,  which  you  should  magnify  an  hundredfold. 
How  do  you  '  try  to  be  his  wife '  ?  With  all  the 
strength  you  can  control  ?  By  devoting  to  his  happi- 
ness your  every  moment?  By  giving  him  all  your 
prayers,  resolutions,  and  ambitions?  Ah,  Victoire, 
can  you  not  see  the  duty  that  lies  plain  before  you? 
Can  you  not  realize  that  you  must  encompass  every 


A    VOLUME  AND  AN  APOSTASY  119 

act  of  your  life  with  the  utmost  carefulness  ?  Do  you 
not  realize  that  your  life  and  your  thought  belong 
wholly  to  your  husband,  even  as  his  devotion  and 
fidelity  should  be  all  yours?" 

He  paused  and  cast  down  his  eyes  sadly.  At  his 
first  words  the  princess  had  risen  in  evident  indigna- 
.tion;  his  earnest  determination  and  evident  unselfish 
sincerity,  however,  had  deterred  her  from  interrupt- 
ing. When  his  admonitions  were  addressed  directly 
to  herself  she  sank  back  in  her  chair,  pale  and 
dejected.  Before  he  had  finished,  a  torrent  of  tears 
welled  over  her  dark  lashes  down  her  white  cheeks, 
and  now  she  lay  sobbing  disconsolately. 

At  sight  of  her  misery  Chabanes  trembled  as  with 
the  ague.  He  dared  not  continue  for  fear  his  bursting 
heart,  wrung  by  the  sight  of  the  suffering  he  had 
caused  the  woman  he  loved  better  than  his  own  soul, 
would  force  him  to  fall  at  her  feet  and  confess  his 
passion.  He  dared  not  look  at  her,  and  would  have 
gladly  stopped  his  ears  that  the  sound  of  her  sobs, 
which  pierced  him  through  and  through,  might  not 
reach  him. 

For  some  moments  she  lay  weeping  and  wretched. 
Then  she  arose  and  went  to  his  side,  knelt  at  his  feet 
and,  taking  his  hand  in  both  of  hers,  kissed  it 
despairingly. 

"  Ah,  Raoul,"  she  moaned,  as  her  hot  tears  fell  on 
his  trembling  hand,  "  how  cruelly  you  humiliate  me  ! 
What  a  monster  I  must  seem  to  you !  What  an 
ingrate !  How  dishonored !  Have  a  little  pity  on 
me.  Tell  me  I  am  not  what  you  seem  to  consider 
me,  —  that  you  still  respect,  honor,  care  for  me." 


I2O  A   PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

Chabanes  uttered  a  wild  cry  of  despair.  He  was 
on  his  feet  in  an  instant,  had  lifted  her  from  the  floor, 
and  had  clasped  her  in  his  arms.  There  she  re- 
mained, her  beautiful  head  on  his  breast,  as  he  madly 
kissed  away  her  tears. 

"  I  love  you,  Victoire,"  he  said,  again  and  again, 
his  heart  throbbing  with  intense  joy  at  the  thought 
that  she  had  cared  so  much  for  his  respect  and  regard 
and  at  the  sight  of  her  tear-stained  face  as,  uncon- 
sciously, she  responded  to  his  passionate  kisses. 

Then  remorse  seized  him  and  he  placed  her  in  the 
chair,  kneeling  beside  her,  and  in  desperation  pressing 
the  hem  of  her  gown  to  his  lips.  For  moments  that 
seemed  hours  neither  spoke.  At  length,  when  the 
storm  had  sufficiently  cleared  away  for  both  to  realize 
fully  the  import  of  what  had  occurred,  they  were 
overtaken  with  intense  despair.  Chabanes  staggered 
to  his  seat  and  sat  with  his  head  bowed  on  his  folded 
arms  in  apparent  lethargy.  Victoire,  overcome  with 
grief,  watched  him.  At  length  she  attempted  to 
speak,  but  he  interrupted  her. 

"  Ah,  it  is  useless  for  you  to  speak,  Victoire,"  he 
said,  bitterly.  "  You  will  remind  me  that  you  are  the 
Princesse  de  Montpensier  and  that  I  am  simply  Raoul 
de  la  Tour  dTvoire,  Comte  de  Chabanes,  who  has 
just  thrown  away  his  sole  possessions,  the  confidence 
of  his  friends  and  his  honor.  You  will  tell  me  that 
you  have  trusted  me  implicitly,  that  you  have  never 
given  me  the  slightest  grounds  for  a  belief  in  any 
disposition  on  your  part  toward  gallantry,  but  that, 
on  the  contrary,  you  have  often  assured  me  that  the 
memory  of  your  interest  in  M.  de  Guise  is  such 


CHABANES   HAD   LIFTED   HER   FROM   THE   FLOOR 


A    VOLUME  AND  AN  APOSTASY  121 

that,  though  half-forgotten,  it  will  prevent  your  ever 
caring  for  unusual  admiration  from  any  one.  And, 
last  of  all,  you  will  recall  to  me  that  I  depend  for 
my  very  life  on  the  friendship  of  your  husband.  I 
have  sinned  beyond  pardon,  yet  I  beg  of  you  to 
spare  me." 

Victoire  regarded  Chabanes  sorrowfully. 

"  Raoul,"  she  said,  with  only  sadness  in  her  voice, 
"  let  us  forget  all  but  the  sincerity  of  your  admonition 
to  me  to-night  You  shall  always  remain  my  best 
and  truest  friend,  ever  ready  to  assist  me  in  know- 
ing and  performing  my  duty.  Of  what  may  be  pain- 
ful and  unprofitable  to  us  let  us  never  again  speak. 
Now  give  me  your  hand,  my  dear  friend,  and  say 
good-night.  I  will  send  some  one  to  you." 

She  passed  silently  out  into  the  corridor. 

For  some  minutes  Chabanes  remained  motionless. 
He  realized  keenly  that  he  had  forgotten  his  resolves, 
his  friend,  and  his  own  honor,  and  in  a  momentary 
impulse  undone  what  all  his  life  could  never  repair. 
He  smiled  grimly  as  he  thought  of  the  way  his  own 
actions  had  belied  the  advice  he  had  so  earnestly 
offered  Victoire.  He  regarded  himself  as  despicable, 
loathsome,  dishonored.  He  wished  she  had  rather 
cast  him  from  her  with  reproaches  than  offered  him 
her  sympathy  and  forgiveness.  The  very  knowledge 
that  she  had  wept  when  she  feared  that  she  had  lost 
his  respect,  and  that  she  had  unconsciously  exhibited 
an  affection  for  him  such  as  he  had  never  dared 
expect,  heightened  for  the  moment  his  anguish  and 
his  sense  of  guilt,  till  he  moaned  in  agony.  Presently 
a  hand  was  laid  gently  on  his,  and  glancing  up  he  saw 


122  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Antoinette  kneeling  beside  his  chair.  Her  face  was 
wet  with  tears  of  sympathy. 

Chabanes  sprang  hastily  to  his  feet.  "  Antoinette," 
he  cried,  almost  fiercely,  "  how  long  have  you  been 
here?" 

"  I  entered  this  moment,  Monsieur,"  was  the 
trembling  reply.  "  Madame  said  that  you  were  not 
well,  and  sent  me  to  ask  if  you  desired  anything." 

"  Send  Francois  to  my  apartments ;  that  will  be  all 
for  to-night,  thank  you,"  he  replied,  with  a  sigh  of 
relief. 

"  I  shall  need  no  valet  but  Hercules  to-night,"  said 
the  count,  when  Francois  appeared.  "  Bring  the  dog 
here  as  soon  as  he  has  been  fed." 

Hercules  greeted  his  master  with  the  usual  affec- 
tion, but  his  caresses  became  less  ardent  when  he 
noticed  the  coldness  with  which  they  were  received. 
To  gain  the  attention  of  the  preoccupied  count,  he 
barked  plaintively. 

"  Resolutions  are  vain,  idle  things,  are  they  not, 
Hercules?"  said  Chabanes,  sorrowfully,  letting  his 
hand  rest  on  the  brute's  head.  "  A  year  ago  we 
made  them  lightly  and  confidently;  we  would  have 
staked  our  lives  on  their  solidity.  A  single  word  has 
sufficed  to  dissipate  them.  Shall  we  make  others, 
only  to  break  them  in  the  same  manner?" 

He  paced  the  floor  wearily.  Hercules,  after  fol- 
lowing him  back  and  forth  several  times,  aban- 
doned this  futile  pursuit  and  sat  down  in  a  corner 
of  the  room  anxiously  regarding  his  inattentive 
master. 

"There   is  only  one  way  for  it  now,"  Chabanes 


A    VOLUME  AND  AN  APOSTASY  12$ 

said,  presently.  "  Our  lives  are  worthless  unless  we 
may  find  an  opportunity  to  offer  them  for  others.  Let 
us  resolve  to  seek  such  opportunities.  Are  you 
willing?" 

Hercules  bounded  to  his  master's  side,  yelping 
joyously. 

"  Then  it  is  agreed,"  said  Chabanes,  smiling 
gloomily.  "And  now,  Heaven  speed  our  first 
opportunity !  " 


XI 

A  PLOT  AND  A  WARNING 

MONTPENSIER,  on  leaving  Champigny,  went 
directly  to  Paris,  where  the  Catholic  princes 
were  assembling  in  preparation  for  a  renewal  of 
hostilities  against  the  Huguenots.  By  the  twenty- 
eighth  of  September  the  flower  of  French  Protestant- 
ism, including  the  Amiral  de  Coligny,  the  Prince 
de  Conde,  Jeanne  d'Albret,  Queen  of  Navarre,  and 
her  son  who  was  destined  later  to  rule  France  as 
Henri  IV.,  were  all  assembled  at  La  Rochelle. 

March  first,  1569,  Montpensier  and  the  Due  de  Guise 
were  with  their  men  at  Fontenay-le-Comte,  twenty 
odd  leagues  from  Champigny.  The  hatred  between 
these  two  men  was  continually  increasing,  because 
of  the  jealousy  the  military  exploits  of  each  caused 
the  other.  Montpensier  could  never  forget  that  Guise 
had  once  offered  him  a  public  insult,  nor  could  Guise 
forget  that  the  prince  was  the  husband  of  Victoire, 
and  his  successful  rival.  On  the  night  of  the  first 
of  March  there  were  assembled  in  Guise's  conical 
tent  three  men,  each  of  a  different  nationality.  They 
were  seated  on  camp-stools  around  a  drum,  on  the 
head  of  which  they  were  playing  at  dice.  Their 
conversation  for  some  time  was  not  spirited,  and 
interest  in  the  game  was  lagging,  until  finally  one,  a 


A   PLOT  AND  A    WARNING  12$ 

handsome  young  man  whose  voice  and  features  be- 
trayed his  Saxon  blood,  remarked,  "Your  pardon, 
M.  le  Due,  but  do  you  not  share  my  own  weariness 
at  this  protracted  inaction?" 

The  duke  laughed  patronizingly  at  the  young  man's 
impatient  tone.  "  It  seems  a  pity  for  you,  Mon^ 
sieur,"  he  said,  "  that  you  should  have  come  from 
England  merely  for  an  opportunity  to  fight,  and  that 
you  should  be  compelled  to  wait  so  impatiently." 

"  Monsieur  will  not  have  to  wait  long  now,  I 
prophesy,"  declared  the  third  player,  whose  accent 
was  distinctly  German  and  whom  we  may  at  once 
acknowledge  to  be  Guise's  unscrupulous  retainer, 
Besme.  "  M.  le  Prince  de  Montpensier  is  said  to 
have  received  a  message  from  the  Due  d'Anjou  that 
an  engagement  is  probable  within  the  fortnight." 

Guise's  brow  contracted  at  this  last  remark. 

"  M.  de  Montpensier  stands  high  in  favor,  then?" 
said  the  Englishman.  "I  had  scarcely  heard  of  him 
in  England." 

"  Nor  we  in  France,  M.  Warden,"  replied  Besme, 
with  a  shrug.  "We  know  nothing  of  his  present 
witchery  over  the  Due  d'Anjou." 

"  And  does  he  not  stand  in  similar  favor  with  M. 
de  Guise?"  asked  Warden,  glancing  at  the  duke. 

The  latter  instantly  appeared  to  be  greatly  ab- 
sorbed in  the  dice.  "  I  have  thrown  double-six,  as 
you  see,  M.  Warden,"  he  said,  gaily,  as  he  swept  the 
coins  from  the  drum-head  into  a  large  wallet.  "  We 
must  hope  for  your  bettered  fortune  on  the  next 
throw." 

The    Englishman    did    not  pursue    his   inquiries. 


126  A   PARFIT  GENT2L  KNIGHT 

Since  joining  the  Catholic  forces  he  had  on  several 
occasions  been  thrown  with  Montpensier,  whom  he 
had  been  compelled  to  admire  as  a  director  of  mar- 
tial movements.  The  prince  had  been  modestly 
attempting  experiments  in  discipline,  based  on  the 
ideas  perfected  by  the  Protestant  leader  Coligny, 
and  though  many  disparaged  the  innovation,  Warden 
was  one  of  the  few  that  were  enthusiastic  in  its 
favor.  On  this  account  Montpensier's  interest  had 
been  aroused  in  the  Englishman,  who  was  reported 
to  be  of  high  rank  and  travelling  under  an  assumed 
name. 

Guise  was  the  first  to  speak  again.  "  M.  Warden," 
he  said,  lightly,  "you  have  never  told  us  what  led 
you  to  seek  distraction  in  the  French  camp.  Inform 
us,  that  we  may  know  how  to  secure  more  such  faith- 
ful soldiers  and  agreeable  companions." 

"  My  reasons  are  simple,"  replied  the  Englishman ; 
"  I  am  a  good  Catholic  and  a  lover  of  adventure. 
Besides,  I  have  served  in  the  armies  of  England,  and 
I  can  imagine  no  more  pleasant  study  than  a  com- 
parative one  of  the  soldiery  of  different  countries." 

"  Surely  no  one  could  ask  more  creditable  reasons, 
Monsieur.  And  what  have  you  found  of  interest 
among  our  French  warriors?" 

"  Things  innumerable ;  for  instance,  I  have  lately 
studied  with  great  diversion  the  disciplinary  experi- 
ments of  M.  de  Montpensier." 

"They  are  doubtless  attractive,"  replied  Guise, 
dryly.  His  desire  to  avoid  the  subject  of  the  prince 
was  quite  evident.  "  And  what  do  you  say  to  the 
inquisitive  here  who  ask  if  the  rumors  of  your  more 


A   PLOT  AND  A    WARNING 

than  common  birth  and  your  concealed  identity  are 
not  without  foundation  ?  " 

"  M.  le  Due,"  exclaimed  Warden,  in  his  turn  sud- 
denly absorbed  in  the  dice,  "  I  also  have  thrown 
double-six  and  by  so  doing  I  win  your  doubled  stake. 
And  now,  if  you  will  permit,  I  shall  retire,  for  the 
night  air  has  made  me  sleepy.  I  wonder  greatly 
that  you  should  have  preferred  the  openness  of  a 
tent  to  the  more  satisfactory  shelter  of  a  roof  these 
crisp  nights." 

"  We  shall  soon  have  rigors  more  serious,"  replied 
Guise,  not  appearing  to  notice  the  Englishman's 
evasion.  "  I  confess  that  I  have  come  under  the 
same  influence  that  you  describe.  Good-night  and 
pleasant  dreams,  Monsieur,"  he  added,  as  the  latter 
politely  bowed  himself  out. 

"  Good-night,  Messieurs,"  replied  Warden,  starting 
toward  his  own  tent.  When  he  had  reached  its 
door  his  hand  fell  on  his  dagger-sheath  and  he  dis- 
covered that  the  latter  was  empty.  He  retraced 
his  steps  to  the  duke's  tent,  where  he  scratched  on 
the  door-flap  by  way  of  attracting  the  occupants' 
attention. 

Guise  and  Besme  were  conversing  in  rather  excited 
tones,  and  they  evidently  did  not  notice  the  English- 
man's signal,  for  he  heard  the  former  exclaim  with 
characteristic  petulance,  "  I  tell  you  we  must  rid 
ourselves  of  Montpensier !  " 

Warden  was  astounded  to  hear  such  a  remark  con- 
cerning the  prince  fall  from  the  lips  of  a  fellow  com- 
mander. He  resolved  to  listen  further  and  ascertain 
whether  treachery  was  actually  being  plotted. 


128  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  But  we  dare  not  kill  him,"  expostulated  Besme. 
"  The  power  of  his  house  at  court  is  constantly  in- 
creasing, and  he  is  too  highly  valued  as  a  soldier  not 
to  be  avenged  at  any  price,  even  by  the  king  himself." 

"To  the  devil  with  your  old  woman's  caution, 
Besme ! "  was  the  heated  reply.  "  Is  there  no 
way  to  kill  the  man,  then,  but  in  public  fight  or 
by  assassination?" 

"Do  you  mean  poison,  Monseigneur?" 

"  Nom  de  Dieu  !  No,  idiot !  Listen ;  in  a  short 
time  there  must  be  a  battle.  Montpensier  will  ride 
at  the  head  of  his  men.  He  will  charge  the  enemy. 
There  will  be  great  confusion,  in  which  it  will  be  next 
to  impossible  to  distinguish  friend  from  foe.  On  this 
account  you  will  make  a  serious  though  pardonable 
mistake.  You  will  ride  close  to  Montpensier  and,  in 
the  impression  that  he  is  a  Huguenot,  of  course,  you 
will  pierce  him  with  your  sword.  There;  you  see 
how  simple  it  is,  after  all !  " 

There  was  a  momentary  silence ;  at  length  Besme 
said,  "  And  if  I  succeed  in  this  enterprise?" 

"  You  shall  have  whatever  you  ask." 

"  Agreed  !  "  cried  Besme,  exultantly.  "  And  this 
is  the  price  I  shall  ask :  that  you  will  give  me  your 
sanction  in  my  revenge  on  one  that  has  done  me  a 
deadly  injury." 

"  And  who  is  this  enemy,  Besme  ?  " 

"  The  Comte  de  Chabanes." 

Guise  was  silent  for  a  moment.  "  Chabanes  is  a 
man  of  resources  and  courage,  as  you  well  know," 
he  said.  "  However,  I  will  promise  to  sanction  his 
assassination  if  you  accomplish  the  other." 


A   PLOT  AND  A    WARNING  I2Q 

"  Then  give  me  an  order  in  writing,  Monseigneur, 
and  your  will  shall  be  done." 

"Always  writing,  Besme?"  grumbled  the  duke. 
"Have  you  no  faith  in  my  loyalty  to  my  servants? 
Have  I  ever  failed  you  in  time  of  peril  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  undertaken  so  grave  a  service,  Mon- 
seigneur. You  are  all-powerful,  while  I  am  helpless 
without  your  favor.  It  might  happen  that,  in  the 
preoccupation  of  war,  your  humble  and  insignificant 
servitor  might  be  forgotten.  And  I  confess  that  I 
have  never  had  the  least  hankering  for  the  dungeon, 
the  torture,  and  the  Place  de  Greve." 

"  But  I  give  you  my  word,  Besme." 

"  Which  I  should  be  the  last  person  in  the  world  to 
doubt;  still,  a  word  of  yours  on  paper  will  do  no 
harm,  and  will  suffice  to  recall  me  to  you  in  the  event 
of  peril  to  myself." 

Guise  muttered  inaudibly  to  himself  and,  taking  a 
sheet  of  paper  from  a  chest,  he  placed  it  on  the 
drum-head.  For  several  minutes  he  held  his  pen 
balanced  reflectively  in  his  hand.  Then,  as  though 
seized  with  a  sudden  idea,  he  wrote  several  lines 
which  he  signed  with  a  colorless  liquid  in  a  small 
bottle  that  he  took  from  the  camp-chest. 

Besme  read  the  paper  to  himself.  "  But  there  is 
no  signature,"  he  said,  with  surprise.  "  The  order  is 
valueless." 

"  The  signature,  my  friend,"  replied  the  duke,  "  is 
there.  You  cannot  see  it  because  it  is  written  with  a 
peculiar  sort  of  ink  prepared  especially  for  me  by 
Maitre  Rene,  the  Florentine."  (At  the  name  of  Rene 
the  German  crossed  himself  devoutly.)  "  If  you  will 

9 


130  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

hold  the  paper  near  to  the  flame  of  this  torch,  you 
will  see  the  signature  appear." 

Incredulously  the  German  approached  the  paper 
to  the  flame  and,  to  his  extreme  amazement,  saw 
appear  in  a  few  seconds  the  distinctly  formed  word 
"  Guise." 

"  The  paper's  value  is  to  you  alone,"  continued  the 
duke ;  "  should  I  forget  you  in  time  of  peril  and  you 
be  compelled  to  make  use  of  it,  you  have  only  to 
hold  it  close  to  a  flame  and  the  result  will  be  as  you 
have  seen.  In  the  meantime,  as  you  perceive,  the 
signature  has  faded  away,  and  were  the  paper  to  be 
lost,  it  could  prove  of  no  value  to  the  finder.  Few 
persons  know  of  the  existence  of  this  remarkable  ink, 
nor,"  he  added,  mentally,  "  that  it  vanishes  for  all 
time  within  forty-eight  hours." 

The  Englishman  scratched  loudly  on  the  tent  flap. 
Both  the  duke  and  Besme  sprang  to  their  feet  and 
rushed  outside. 

"  Ah,  it  is  you,  Monsieur  !  "  exclaimed  the  former, 
when  he  had  recognized  Warden.  "  Is  there  any- 
thing amiss?" 

"  I  have  left  my  poniard  in  your  tent,  M.  le  Due, 
and  have  just  returned  to  seek  it,"  said  the  English- 
man, in  a  tone  of  simplicity  that  reassured  both  Guise 
and  Besme. 

The  poniard  was  recovered  and  Warden  again  bade 
the  others  good-night  and  left  the  tent.  Fearing 
that  he  might  be  watched,  he  returned  directly  to 
his  own,  and  after  assuring  himself  that  Guise  and 
Besme  had  retired,  he  lighted  a  candle  and  took  from 
his  camp-chest  a  sheet  of  paper,  on  which,  disguising 


A   PLOT  AND  A    WARNING  131 

his  hand-writing  as  much  as  possible,  he  wrote  as 
follows :  — 

"  A  plot  has  been  arranged  whereby  the  servant  of 
one  in  high  position  is  to  kill  M.  de  Montpensier 
during  the  confusion  of  the  next  engagement." 

Montpensier  was  seated  alone  in  his  tent  studying 
some  maps  that  were  unrolled  on  his  knee,  when 
suddenly,  as  though  from  a  gust  of  wind,  the  tent- 
flap  blew  open  and  a  scrap  of  paper  fluttered  in. 
He  picked  it  up  and  read  with  astonishment  the  note 
the  Englishman  had  written. 

Alone  in  his  tent  the  latter,  after  having  cautiously 
ascertained  that  he  was  securely  fastened  in,  drew 
from  his  doublet  a  small  package  of  papers.  He 
unrolled  them  and  spread  them  one  after  another  on 
his  knee;  they  were  rude  maps  and  specifications, 
together  with  a  considerable  quantity  of  notes.  After 
an  hour  spent  in  thoughtful  study  the  Englishman 
took  a  blank  sheet  of  paper  from  the  chest  at  his  side 
and  indited  a  brief  but  laborious  letter.  It  was  ad- 
dressed to  M.  le  Prince  de  Cond6.  When  he  had 
read  the  letter  several  times,  the  Englishman  hurriedly 
signed  and  sealed  it.  The  name  he  wrote  at  the  foot 
of  the  page,  however,  was  not  Warden.  Instead,  it 
was  a  name  that  was  destined  to  become  some  years 
later  one  of  the  foremost  in  England  and,  eventually, 
in  the  history  of  the  world.  "  Ralph  Warden  "  was  a 
Huguenot  spy. 


XII 

AN  ANXIETY  AND  A  SUBTERFUGE 

/"TpvHE  morning  after  his  impulsive  avowal  of  love 
•*•  to  Victoire,  Chabanes  arose  from  his  restless 
bed,  heavy-hearted  with  a  weight  of  grief  and  remorse 
that  was  almost  beyond  endurance.  In  the  hall  he 
met  Victoire,  radiant  and  smiling.  She  gave  him 
her  hand  spontaneously  and  confidently,  and  though 
he  was  impelled  to  hang  his  head  in  shame,  rallied 
him  merrily  on  many  frivolous  subjects,  so  that  he 
soon  almost  forgot  that  there  had  ever  been  any 
yesternight.  They  spent  the  morning  in  reading  and 
singing.  In  the  afternoon  they  conversed  as  usual 
on  a  variety  of  topics.  Victoire  gave  the  count  her 
implicit  confidence  in  all  things,  evidently  with  the 
design  of  assuring  him  that  his  conduct  of  the  pre- 
ceding night  had  been  entirely  forgiven.  Naturally, 
she  succeeded  only  in  increasing  the  agony  the 
count  was  compelled  by  his  passion  and  his  remorse 
to  endure.  He  resolved,  however,  to  bear  his  own 
sufferings  patiently  and  to  conceal  them  always  from 
the  princess,  for  he  felt  that  even  so  terrible  a 
penance  could  never  compensate  for  the  wrong  he 
had  done. 

Time  and  again  he  renewed  his  resolve  that,  since 
he  had  vitiated  his  power  to  advise  his  friend's  wife 


AN  ANXIETY  AND  A   SUBTERFUGE  133 

in  her  duty,  by  failing  in  his  own,  he  would  devote 
his  life  to  the  protection  of  her  reputation  and  her 
honor  in  every  possible  way. 

Toward  seven  o'clock  that  evening  a  strange 
courier  arrived  at  Champigny.  The  message  he 
bore  was  brought  into  the  great  hall  by  Antoinette. 
Chabanes  received  it  and  glanced  at  the  address. 

"  It  is  from  Charles,"  he  said,  in  response  to  Vic- 
toire's  inquiring  glance. 

"  To  whom  is  it  addressed?" 

"Tome." 

Victoire  sighed.     "  What  has  Charles  to  say  ?  " 

The  count  had  broken  the  seal  and  had  hastily 
glanced  over  the  letter. 

It  said :  — 

DEAREST  RAOUL,  —  The  enclosed  warning  that  has  just 
come  to  me,  together  with  a  strange  dream  that  has  been  re- 
curring frequently  of  late,  has  filled  me  with  an  unaccountable 
apprehension  of  impending  evil,  perhaps  death.  I  could 
not  rest  until  I  had  told  you  of  this  warning  and  my  feeling. 
Possibly  it  is  all  imaginary,  but  it  appears  most  vividly  real. 
In  the  event  of  any  casualty,  you  know,  I  intrust  Victoire 
to  you  as  I  always  have  done.  Do  not  needlessly  alarm 
her  about  me  —  though  I  doubt  me  if  my  loss  would  be 
much  to  her  —  but,  should  I  be  killed,  give  her  my  farewell 
kiss  and  guard  her  as  carefully  as  you  have  hitherto  done. 
In  any  event,  with  my  dearest  affection,  I  am  ever  yours. 

Au  revoir.  CHARLES. 

Chabanes  had  not  time  to  read  the  inclosure  be- 
fore replying  to  Victoire's  question,  so  he  folded 
the  two  sheets  of  paper  together  and  placed  them  in 
his  doublet. 


134  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  Charles  is  not  ill.  There  is  a '  likelihood  of  an- 
other engagement  with  Conde  before  long." 

The  princess  did  not  inquire  further  as  to  the  con- 
tents of  the  letter.  Chabanes  excused  himself  a  trifle 
earlier  that  evening  and  retired  to  his  apartments,  to 
read  the  warning  that  Montpensier  had  mentioned 
and  to  reflect  on  the  strange  apprehension  that  had 
come  over  his  friend. 

During  the  next  week  the  count's  messengers 
brought  daily  news  of  the  movements  of  both  the 
Catholic  and  the  Huguenot  armies.  He  and  Victoire 
pricked  off  these  movements  with  pins  on  the  map 
in  the  great  hall,  conjecturing  on  the  plans  of  the 
leaders  and  the  probabilities  as  to  the  time  and  place 
of  the  armies'  meeting. 

On  March  tenth  the  armies  were  nearing  the  river 
Charente  at  a  point  about  thirty-five  leagues  distant 
from  Champigny.  Chabanes  saw  that  a  conflict  near 
the  river  was  imminent  and  that,  if  the  warning  that 
Montpensier  had  received  was  honest,  his  friend  was 
about  to  be  placed  in  great  danger.  Chabanes  knew 
that  the  prince  would  forget  his  own  safety  at  the 
first  battle  trumpet,  and  that  an  assassin  bold  enough 
to  risk  the  thick  of  the  fight  could  cut  him  down 
from  the  rear  with  comparative  ease.  That  evening 
the  count  did  not  pass  with  Victoire.  He  sent  her 
word  by  Francois  that  he  was  a  trifle  indisposed,  and 
for  two  hours  he  paced  the  floor  of  his  chamber, 
mentally  revolving  the  letter  from  the  prince,  and  the 
probabilities  of  his  friend's  danger. 

"  This  warning,  Hercules,"  he  said  to  his  canine  com- 
panion, "  has  had  a  strange  effect  on  me,  as  well  as 


AN  ANXIETY  AND  A  SUBTERFUGE  135 

on  Charles;  I  feel  deeply  concerned  for  one  who 
will  heedlessly  forget  his  own  safety.  If  only  I  were 
with  him,  I  might  find  it  within  my  power  to  avert 
a  danger  which  my  friend,  in  spite  of  his  apprehen- 
sions, will  recklessly  despise.  Listen  to  his  letter, 
Hercules,  and  then  help  me  to  decide  on  a  plan  of 
action ;  I  cannot  remain  idle  while  my  friend's  life 
is  imperilled." 

The  count  read  aloud  Montpensier's  message. 
"  True  friend ! "  he  exclaimed,  with  a  sigh,  when  he 
came  to  the  lines,  "  In  the  event  of  any  casualty, 
you  know,  I  intrust  Victoire  to  you  as  I  always  have 
done."  The  very  sincerity  of  the  statement  pained 
him  beyond  expression.  "  Parbleu,  dog !  Is  not  this 
the  occasion  for  which  we  so  eagerly  longed  ?  Shall 
we  let  slip  this  opportunity  to  be  of  service  to  him 
whom  we  have  so  irreparably  wronged  ?  Let  us  prove 
that  we  are  not  wholly  bad,  by  saving  our  friend  — 
yes,  for  the  enjoyment  of  her  we  love  so  madly !  " 

Chabanes  was  conscious  of  a  sense  of  relief  in  shar- 
ing his  guilt  with  Hercules  by  the  use  of  the  first 
person  plural.  The  dog  evinced  an  interest  in  his 
master's  soliloquy  that  intelligently  subsided  when 
the  latter  exclaimed :  "  I  must  go  alone,  old  friend ; 
battle-fields  are  no  places  for  such  as  you.  A  spear- 
thrust  or  the  hoof  of  a  maddened  horse  would  de- 
prive me  of  a  trusty  friend  and  a  valued  confidant 
No,  you  and  Nero  must  stay  while  I  go  forth  to  face 
the  battle,  and  what  is  perhaps  more  deadly,  the 
disfavor  of  the  queen-mother.  And  none  but  you 
shall  know  if  I  succeed,  for  Heaven  forbid  that 
Victoire  should  think  that  I  considered  the  deed 


136  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

in   the  light  of  atonement,   or  that  Charles   should 
feel  under  obligations  to  me !  " 

Chabanes,  with  folded  arms,  paced  the  floor  for 
some  minutes.  At  last,  with  the  air  of  one  who  has 
firmly  resolved  on  a  course  of  action,  he  summoned 
Francois  and  told  him  to  prepare  his  cuirass  and 
riding  costume. 

Francois,  accustomed  to  receive  unquestioningly  all 
sorts  of  orders,  silently  obeyed.  Chabanes  examined 
the  joints  of  his  cuirass,  which  he  found  in  excellent 
condition.  However,  he  did  not  immediately  order 
his  valet  to  attire  him  in  it.  Instead,  he  again  began 
pacing  the  floor,  while  Francois  and  Hercules  awaited 
his  pleasure  with  an  air  of  resignation.  At  length, 
as  though  having  decided  a  puzzling  question,  the 
count  said,  "  Francois,  there  is  a  suit  of  black  armor  in 
the  apartments  of  M.  de  Montpensier ;  do  you  think 
you  can  bring  it  here  without  being  seen?" 

"  I  am  certain  of  it,  Monsieur,"  replied  the  valet. 

"  Very  well ;  you  may  go  for  it  at  once." 

The  suit  of  mail  that  Francois  brought  was  almost 
a  hundred  years  old  and  of  a  pattern  somewhat  out 
of  date  in  the  reign  of  Charles  IX.  It  consisted  of 
the  usual  complete  casing  of  steel  for  body  and 
limbs,  and  a  helmet,  the  letting  down  of  whose  visor 
was  the  last  act  in  shutting  in  the  wearer  from  the 
world  of  war.  With  his  valet's  aid  the  count  at  once 
put  on  the  suit,  which  proved  an  excellent  fit.  Then, 
after  securely  chaining  Hercules,  who  resignedly  per- 
mitted himself  to  be  thus  treated,  and  directing 
Francois  to  follow  him,  he  proceeded  as  noiselessly 
as  possible  by  a  narrow  secret  staircase  that  Mont- 


AN  ANXIETY  AND  A  SUBTERFUGE  137 

pensier  had  revealed  to  him  alone,  out  into  the 
stable-yard,  where  he  awakened  one  of  his  messenger- 
grooms  and  ordered  a  horse  saddled  at  once.  At 
Mirebeau,  Lusignan,  and  Melle  there  were  relays  that 
the  messengers  were  accustomed  to  use,  and  Cha- 
banes  knew  an  inn-keeper  in  Saint-Jean  d'Angely 
that  would  gladly  lend  him  an  excellent  steed. 

When  his  horse  had  been  brought,  the  count  led 
Francois  and  the  groom  aside  and  instructed  them 
to  conceal  from  all  the  fact  that  he  had  left  the 
chateau. 

"  I  shall  probably  return  within  the  week,"  he  said, 
"  and  in  the  interim  I  leave  it  to  you  to  prevent  my 
absence  being  known.  If  you  succeed  in  doing  so  I 
will  give  you  each  fifty  rose  nobles." 

Francois  helped  his  master  to  mount  and  the 
groom  opened  the  gate  for  him,  both  of  them  shower- 
ing him  with  their  blessings  as  he  rode  away  to  the 
south. 

At  ten  the  following  morning  Victoire  sent  her 
maid  to  ask  of  Francois  why  M.  de  Chabanes  did  not 
descend.  Antoinette  returned  to  her  mistress  with 
the  statement  that  the  count  had  decided  to  hunt  that 
morning  and  had  left  the  chateau  at  an  early  hour. 
In  the  afternoon  Frangois  came  to  say  that  his  master 
had  returned  very  tired  and  would  remain  in  bed  till 
the  following  morning. 

The  princess,  having  noted  that  of  late  the  count, 
still  suffering  from  his  emotion  of  the  past  fortnight, 
was  often  disposed  to  avoid  her,  dismissed  this  de- 
cision without  further  thought.  She  sent  to  ask  if 
there  was  anything  she  could  do  to  render  Chabanes 


138  A   PAR  FIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

more  comfortable,  receiving  a  politely  grateful  reply 
in  the  negative. 

On  the  next  evening,  having  seen  nothing  of  the 
count  all  day,  she  again  sent  to  his  apartments,  and 
received  a  reply  similar  to  the  one  returned  the  day 
before.  Antoinette  assured  her  mistress  that  the 
faithful  Francois  carried  the  count  his  meals  with 
regularity,  scarcely  ever  leaving  his  master's  room  for 
any  other  purpose,  and  always  scrupulously  locking 
the  door  on  leaving  or  entering. 

The  next  day  brought  the  same  reply  to  the  solici- 
tations of  Victoire.  Several  times  she  sent  to  offer 
her  services,  had  delicacies  innumerable  taken  to  the 
count's  apartments,  and  began  to  evince  an  in- 
credulous curiosity  as  to  the  malady  with  which  he 
suffered. 

On  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day,  having  addressed 
a  note  to  Raoul,  telling  him  how  extremely  lonely 
she  was  without  him  and  begging  him  to  come  down 
if  only  for  an  hour,  and  having  received  in  response 
only  an  oral  message  from  Francois  that  M.  de 
Chabanes  was  not  yet  feeling  well  enough  to  leave 
his  bed,  Victoire  resolved  to  make  a  tour  of  inves- 
tigation on  her  own  account.  Accordingly,  dismiss- 
ing Antoinette  and  waiting  till  after  ten,  when  all  the 
servants  should  have  retired,  she  took  a  candle  and 
marched  boldly  up  to  the  door  of  the  count's  bed- 
chamber, at  which  she  knocked  determinedly. 

"Who  is  there?"  demanded  Francois. 

"  It  is  I,  Mme.  de  Montpensier." 

"  Have    you    some  word   I   can  give  the   count, 
Madame?" 


ANXIETY  AND  A  SUBTERFUGE  139 

"  My  message  to  M.  de  Chabanes  must  be  delivered 
by  myself  in  person  and  at  once." 

"  But,  Madame,  begging  your  pardon,  M.  de  Cha- 
banes is  quite  too  ill  to  hear  anything  just  now.  Let 
me  have  the  message,  and  as  soon  as  he  is  better  I 
will  give  it  to  him." 

The  valet's  voice  trembled  audibly.  Summoning 
her  most  dignified  tone,  Victoire  commanded,  "  Open 
me  this  door,  insolent,  or  I  will  have  you  driven  from 
the  house  with  blows  !  " 

Francois,  terrified  beyond  measure,  opened  the 
door  slightly  and  thrust  his  pale  face  into  the  crevice 
thus  formed. 

"  Madame,"  he  began,  imploringly,  "  I  beg  of 
you  —  " 

"  Stand  back,  knave,"  commanded  the  princess, 
placing  her  foot  against  the  door  so  that  Francois 
could  not  close  it  again. 

The  poor  valet  did  not  know  what  to  do,  but  as 
Victoire  pushed  determinedly  against  the  door,  he 
was  compelled  to  stand  aside  and  allow  her  to  enter. 
As  he  did  so  he  fancied  he  heard  the  voice  of  the 
count  without,  and  he  trembled  violently  in  anticipa- 
tion of  the  rating  he  would  receive  when  his  master 
learned  that  his  wishes  had  not  been  fulfilled. 

Victoire  hesitantly  advanced  into  the  room.  Now 
that  she  had  gained  her  point,  —  an  entrance,  —  she 
was  not  so  positive  as  she  would  have  liked  to  be 
that  she  had  done  quite  the  proper  thing.  The 
count's  bed,  all  the  curtains  of  which  were  tightly 
drawn,  was  in  the  farther  end  of  the  room.  She 
glanced  scornfully  at  the  trembling  valet  and  ad- 


140  A  PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

vanced  with  all  the  intrepidity  she  could  assume 
toward  the  bed.  When  she  was  within  a  half-dozen 
paces  of  it  she  stopped  and  said  softly,  "  Raoul !  " 

There  was  no  answer,  and  she  repeated  the  name 
several  times  without  success.  She  was  trying  to 
muster  enough  courage  to  look  behind  the  curtains 
and  see  if  the  count  was  really  there,  when  Francois, 
who  had  edged  his  way  to  a  window  that  opened  on 
the  stable-yard,  and  had  seen  a  saddled  horse  without, 
divined  that  his  master  had  returned ;  then  with  a 
gesture  he  attracted  her  attention  to  a  number  of 
boxes  and  bottles  that  were  placed  on  a  console 
opposite  the  bed. 

"  Your  pardon,  Madame,"  he  said,  "  but,  really,  it 
were  unwise  to  arouse  M.  de  Chabanes  just  yet.  He 
has  a  high  fever  and  I  have  been  dosing  him  with 
these  simple  remedies  which  I  secured  in  Gascony. 
One  of  them  has  the  effect  of  throwing  one  into  a 
deep  sleep  which,  if  allowed  to  take  its  course,  will 
carry  the  fever  away  with  it  when  it  passes." 

The  valet's  expectant  ear  had  caught  a  faint  sound 
that  reminded  him  of  a  mailed  foot  on  the  secret 
stair,  and  he  raised  his  voice  to  a  high  key  when 
he  fancied  he  heard  the  panel,  that  led  to  the  stair 
and  that  was  situated  behind  the  bed  in  a  dark  corner, 
gently  opened  and  closed. 

"  M.  de  Chabanes,"  he  fairly  shrieked,  "  is  asleep 
in  his  bed  with  the  heavy  coverings  drawn  tightly 
about  his  throat  so  that  he  may  catch  no  cold.  I 
am  confident  that  after  another  day's  rest  he  will 
have  fully  recovered,  and  I  firmly  believe  that  it 
would  be  wrong  to  disturb  him  just  now." 


AN  ANXIETY  AND  A  SUBTERFUGE  141 

Frangois  had  placed  himself  so  that  Victoire,  in 
regarding  him,  had  her  back  to  the  bed,  which  he 
watched  for  the  faintest  movement  of  the  curtains. 
As  he  paused  he  fancied  that  these  latter  did  flutter 
slightly,  and  that  he  could  hear  the  swish  of  the 
coverings  within  being  arranged.  Evidently  none  of 
these  sounds  had  been  heard  by  Victoire,  who,  still 
incredulous,  turned  resolutely  toward  the  bed. 

"At  all  events,  M.  le  Medicin,"  she  said,  rather 
sarcastically,  "you  need  not  shout  so  loudly,  and 
there  can  be  no  objection  to  my  glancing  in  at 
M.  de  Chabanes  to  see  that  all  is  well  with  him?  " 

Francois  in  uncertainty  sprang  forward,  his  hand 
outstretched  to  detain  her.  "  I  beg  of  you,  Madame 
— "  he  began  in  a  tone  of  fright,  but  this  time 
Victoire  was  not  to  be  thwarted.  She  advanced 
resolutely  to  the  bed  and  swept  aside  the  curtain. 

Francois  was  unable  to  restrain  an  exclamation  of 
delight  as  he  saw  within  the  bed,  closely  muffled  in 
the  coverings,  Chabanes,  who  actually  appeared  to 
sleep.  He  had  returned  to  Champigny  with  just 
enough  vitality  to  realize  that  his  valet,  in  desperate 
straits,  was  making  every  endeavor  to  inform  him 
of  the  situation.  He  had  slipped  cautiously  into 
bed,  drawn  the  coverings  tightly  about  him,  and  at 
once  feigned  the  profound  sleep  which  Francois 
described. 

Victoire  gazed  on  the  count  for  a  few  moments. 
The  dim  candle-light  that  penetrated  the  bed  cur- 
tains, which  were  open  on  the  opposite  side,  failed 
to  reveal  the  dust  that  stained  his  features,  which, 
swollen  and  flushed  with  want  of  rest,  had  all  the 


142  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

appearance  of  those  of  a  fever  patient.  Satisfied 
that  Francois  had  told  her  the  truth,  she  let  fall 
the  curtain,  and,  after  admonishing  the  valet  to  take 
good  care  of  his  master  and  report  to  her  hourly 
the  latter's  condition,  she  retired  to  her  own  apart- 
ments to  relate  her  experience  to  Antoinette. 

Francois  immediately  assisted  his  master  in  remov- 
ing the  armor  and  in  bathing  his  weary  limbs.  Then 
the  count  was  carefully  tucked  in  a  fresh  bed  for  a 
long  and  much  needed  sleep. 

The  second  morning  after  his  return  to  Champigny, 
Chabanes  appeared  in  the  library  of  the  chateau  with 
his  left  arm  in  a  bandage. 


XIII 

A  BATTLE  AND  A  STRANGER 

ON  the  morning  of  the  thirteenth  of  March,  two 
days  before  the  timely  appearance  of  Chabanes 
in  bed  at  Champigny,  the  Huguenot  army  under 
the  fearless  Prince  de  Conde",  with  the  Amiral  de 
Coligny  as  his  second,  and  the  Catholic  army  under 
the  king's  brother,  the  Due  d'Anjou, —  who  acted 
under  the  instructions  of  the  veterans,  the  Marshals 
de  Tavannes  and  de  Biron,  —  each  army  about  twenty 
thousand  strong,  and  each  anxious  to  face  the  enemy, 
met  near  Jarnac,  on  the  banks  of  the  Charente. 

In  1547,  Jarnac  was  the  scene  of  the  last  duel 
in  France  that  was  sanctioned  by  the  king ;  and  al- 
though the  great  duel  between  these  two  armies  — 
both  fighting  under  the  sacred  banners  of  Religion, 
for  the  most  part  merely  to  attain  personal  and  sel- 
fish ends  —  has  never  had  the  sanction  of  God  or 
man,  it  was  no  less  sanguinary,  cruel,  and  useless,  as 
a  factor  in  deciding  the  question  of  right  and  wrong, 
than  was  the  famous  sanctioned  duel  between  the 
two  gentlemen  of  France. 

The  royal  army,  reinforced  by  a  body  of  German 
mercenaries,  had  determined  to  force  a  battle  on  the 
Protestants,  who  were  resolved  to  hold  the  line  of 
the  Charente,  having  destroyed  the  bridges  over 


144  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

that  river.  Owing  to  the  negligence  of  one  of 
Coligny's  guards  posted  near  Bassac,  the  enemy 
were  allowed  to  cross  the  river  on  a  bridge  of  boats 
during  the  night.  Coligny  first  endeavored  to  with- 
draw his  forces,  but,  finding  this  impossible,  he  sent 
at  once  for  Conde.  The  battle  consisted,  in  the  first 
place,  of  a  surprise,  and  in  the  second,  of  a  long 
series  of  fierce  skirmishes  in  which  the  Catholic 
leaders,  including  Anjou,  Guise,  and  Montpensier,  at 
the  head  of  their  troops,  fought  hand  to  hand  with 
the  Protestant  chiefs. 

The  formation  of  the  royalists  after  crossing  the 
Charente  was  such  that  the  main  body  of  the  army 
— being  sections  in  command  of  Guise,  of  Anjou, 
and  of  Montpensier,  with  Guise  in  the  middle  —  was 
drawn  up  on  a  slope  that  overlooked  the  position  of 
the  enemy.  The  Marechals  de  Tavannes  and  de 
Biron  having  advised  the  Due  d'Anjou  to  order  a 
sudden  and  concerted  attack,  charge  after  charge  was 
headed  by  the  three  young  men,  who  so  scattered  the 
enemy  that  the  day  was  quickly  deemed  won.  In 
the  third  engagement  Montpensier  at  the  head  of  a 
thousand  halberdiers  attacked  a  section  of  the  Hugue- 
nots under  the  famous  Andelot,  Coligny's  brother, 
and  the  most  thrilling  combats  of  the  day  ensued. 
Montpensier,  with  a  stroke  of  his  sword  severed  the 
pistol  hand  of  the  Protestant  Dalvagnac,  just  as  the 
latter  was  on  the  point  of  firing  at  him.  Andelot 
furiously  charged  the  skilful  Martigues  and,  forcing 
open  the  visor  of  his  opponent's  helmet  with  his 
bridle  hand,  blew  out  his  brains  with  a  pistol  held  in 
his  left.  Montpensier  had  two  horses  killed  under 


A  SOLDIER   CARRIED   HIM    FROM   THE   FIELD  ACROSS  THE  SADDLE-BOWS 


A   BATTLE  AND  A  STRANGER  145 

him  and,  while  mounting  the  third,  he  was  attacked 
by  a  Huguenot  named  Launay,  a  powerful  man  armed 
with  sword  and  pistol.  In  his  several  dismountings 
the  prince  had  lost  his  pistols,  and  he  was  compelled 
to  rely  entirely  on  his  skill  in  wielding  the  sword. 
Launay  fired ;  the  ball  passed  through  the  prince's 
helmet  and  slightly  stunned  him.  Launay  then 
rushed  forward  and  met  the  prince  with  a  fierce 
onslaught  with  sword  and  dagger.  The  fight  was  furi- 
ous for  a  moment,  but  Launay  quickly  displayed  signs 
of  weakening.  Just  as  Montpensier  seemed  on  the 
point  of  spitting  his  enemy  with  his  sword,  a  man 
attired  in  a  nondescript  uniform  rode  close  behind 
the  prince  and  dealt  him  a  terrific  blow,  which 
seemed  to  cleave  directly  through  the  skull.  Mont- 
pensier was  not  killed,  however,  for,  though  he  fell  at 
once,  he  was  seen  to  endeavor  to  rise  from  among 
the  dead  and  wounded  that  bestrewed  the  field  on 
every  hand.  His  assassin,  divining  his  intention, 
lifted  his  sword  and  was  in  the  act  of  finishing  his 
victim,  when  a  soldier  dressed  in  antiquated  black 
armor  rode  madly  into  the  group,  dashed  the  sword 
from  the  hand  of  the  assassin,  and  with  almost  super- 
human dexterity  lifted  the  prostrate  prince,  and 
carried  him  across  the  saddle-bows  from  the  field. 
As  he  did  so,  a  man  burst  from  the  midst  of  the 
conflict  and  rode  wildly  after  Montpensier's  rescuer; 
but  after  he  had  gone  some  fifty  yards,  he  suddenly 
brought  his  horse  back  on  its  haunches,  wheeled,  and 
returned  to  the  battle.  It  was  the  Due  de  Guise. 

The    stranger    in   armor   placed    the    unconscious 
prince  beneath  a  large  tree,  removed  the  latter's  hel- 


146  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

met,  and,  finding  that  he  was  not  wounded,  but  merely 
stunned,  left  him  in  charge  of  a  surgeon,  and  turned 
to  ride  away.  He  had  gone  scarcely  a  hundred 
paces  when  he  was  furiously  charged  by  a  Protestant 
cavalier  who  had  evidently  been  separated  from  his 
comrades.  The  man  in  the  black  armor  prepared 
to  receive  the  other's  onslaught,  and  for  a  time  a 
fierce  rain  of  blows  ensued.  Several  times  he  had 
his  antagonist  at  a  disadvantage,  and  then  it  became 
evident  that  the  more  skilful  fighter  did  not  wish 
to  kill  the  other.  On  each  of  such  occasions  the 
former  retreated  some  steps  and  allowed  his  enemy 
to  recover.  Thus  in  a  short  time  the  knight  in 
black  was  back  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  where  lay 
Montpensier. 

Suddenly  the  Protestant  cavalier  dropped  his 
sword-point,  sprang  from  his  horse,  and  knelt  beside 
the  prostrate  prince.  This  example  was  instantly 
followed  by  the  black  knight  who,  glancing  into  the 
eyes  of  his  late  opponent,  drew  off  his  gauntlet 
and  extended  his  hand,  saying,  "  I  also  am  his 
friend." 

The  other  grasped  the  proffered  hand  with  feeling. 
"  At  your  service,  Monsieur,"  he  said,  warmly ;  "  may 
I  ask  your  name?  " 

The  man  raised  the  visor  of  his  black  helmet.  "  I 
am  Raoul  de  la  Tour  d'lvoire,  Comte  de  Chabanes," 
he  said,  simply. 

The  other  in  response,  disclosed  the  features  of 
the  young  Englishman  who  had  warned  Montpensier 
of  the  plot  against  his  life.  "  And  I,"  he  said,  in  a 
low  tone,  "  am  an  Englishman,  lately  a  Huguenot 


A   BATTLE  AND  A  STRANGER  147 

spy,  but  now  —  my  work  being  done  —  an  openly 
avowed  soldier  of  M.  le  Prince  de  Conde,  — by  name, 
Walter  Raleigh." 

They  bowed  politely. 

"  I  saw  you  save  him,  Monsieur,"  continued 
Raleigh,  naively.  "  I  myself  had  the  honor  of  warn- 
ing him."  (Chabanes'  heart  warmed  to  his  new 
acquaintance.)  "I  said  to  myself,  'The  King  of 
France  should  be  proud  of  such  a  soldier;  I  will 
learn  the  name  and  seek  a  means  of  informing  his 
Majesty.'  Again  I  thought,  '  But  this  gentleman  is  a 
Catholic ;  he  is  my  enemy  and  the  foe  of  my  religion 
as  well  as  of  my  commander;  moreover,  he  has 
shown  himself  to  be,  by  all  odds,  a  foeman  worthy  of 
my  steel.'  And  so,  I  spught  a  combat  with  you, 
Monsieur." 

Chabanes  smiled  grimly  at  this  unique  statement. 
"  Very  well,  Monsieur,"  he  replied,  quietly,  "  since 
you  admire  my  style  of  fighting  and  because  you 
know  my  name,  —  which  in  connection  with  this  day 
I  desire  to  keep  a  secret,  —  I  shall  have  the  honor 
of  killing  you  at  once." 

He  arose  and  placed  himself  on  guard,  sword  in 
hand. 

"  Willingly !  "  cried  Raleigh,  following  Chabanes' 
example.  "  But  first  assure  me  that  the  prince  is  out 
of  danger." 

"  He  will  recover  very  soon,  I  am  positive,  and  as 
I  desire  that  he,  of  all  men,  should  not  know  of  my 
presence  here,  I  must  beg  you  to  permit  me  to  make 
short  work  of  you." 

Raleigh  at  once  engaged  the  count's  sword,  saying, 


148  A   PARFIT  GENT1L  KNIGHT 

"  In  case  I  be  the  more  fortunate,  Monsieur,  depend 
on  me  to  keep  your  secret." 

"For  which  I  shall  be  truly  grateful,"  responded 
Chabanes,  grimly. 

However,  Destiny  had  prepared  for  both  these 
men  other  ends  than  the  death  each  calmly  and 
firmly  sought  to  give  his  opponent.  Even  then,  in 
the  infinite,  soulless,  impetuous  mind  of  fickle  Fate 
there  arose  a  vision  of  western  seas,  of  mighty  deeds 
on  unknown  waters,  of  war,  adventure,  and  supreme 
piracy;  of  spreading  colonies  and  all-conquering 
fame;  of  royal  favor  and  of  noble  enmity;  and, 
last  of  all,  of  a  blood-stained  block  and  a  severed 
head  brought  low  by  the  stroke  of  the  executioner's 
axe. 

The  Frenchman  and  the  unknown  English  soldier 
of  fortune  had  been  engaged  but  a  few  moments, 
when  they  became  aware  that  the  tide  of  battle  was 
rapidly  rolling  in  on  them ;  they  were  being  hemmed 
in  on  all  sides.  A  score  of  combatants  surrounded 
them ;  each  was  attacked  by  others,  and  soon  they 
were  widely  separated.  Chabanes  presently  be- 
thought himself  of  his  helpless  friend,  and,  retiring 
to  the  tree,  stationed  himself  beside  Montpensier, 
ready  to  sell  his  life  dear.  And  Walter  Raleigh, 
seeking  the  valiant  but  luckless  ranks  of  the  defenders 
of  his  faith,  dauntlessly  cut  his  way  out  of  the  circle 
of  his  enemies  and  vanished  from  the  lives  of  the 
Comte  de  Chabanes  and  the  Prince  de  Montpensier. 

Skirmish  after  skirmish  had  occurred  since  the 
attempted  assassination  of  the  prince.  The  Amiral 
de  Coligny,  having  sent  for  the  Prince  de  Conde's 


A  BATTLE  AND  A  STRANGER  149 

aid,  saw  that  the  tide  of  battle  was  turning  against 
him;  so  he  despatched  a  second  message  to  Conde 
telling  him  to  withdraw  while  there  was  yet  time, 
rather  than  weaken  himself  in  a  fruitless  effort. 
However,  the  admiral  had  reckoned  without  the 
foolhardy  bravery  of  Conde,  for  the  latter  sent  back 
the  answer :  "  God  forbid  that  Louis  de  Bourbon 
should  turn  his  back  to  the  enemy !  " 

Chabanes,  waiting  beneath  the  tree,  was  not  long  in 
discovering  that  it  was  the  charges  of  Conde's  re- 
inforcement that  was  producing  the  changes  in  the 
direction  of  the  battle. 

However,  these  furious  charges  quickly  became 
ineffective,  and  Conde's  little  troop  was  soon  being 
swallowed  in  the  overwhelming  numbers  of  the 
enemy.  Twenty  of  his  men,  carrying  their  standard, 
cut  their  way  out  of  the  conflict,  which  was  now  with- 
in twenty  yards  of  the  spot  where  lay  Montpensier, 
but  they  left  Conde  with  a  crushed  arm  and  a  broken 
leg. 

His  three  hundred  men  had  almost  all  perished  in 
the  terrible  charge  on  the  eight  hundred  lances  of 
the  Due  d'Anjou,  his  friends  were  routed,  and  he 
was  helplessly  crippled.  So  Chabanes  saw  him  as, 
inch  by  inch,  he  was  driven  back  with  the  conflict. 
An  opportunity  offering,  Cond6  rode  quickly  up  to 
the  tree.  A  pistol  ball  crashed  through  his  horse's 
throat,  and  he  fell  heavily  to  the  ground. 

In  an  instant  Chabanes,  inspired  by  admiration 
for  the  Protestant's  bravery,  darted  to  his  side  and 
succeeded  in  releasing  his  crushed  limb  from  the 
weight  of  the  fallen  horse.  He  lifted  Cond6  to  an 


150  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

upright  position  and  dragged  him  to  the  tree,  against 
which  he  rested  his  back. 

•'  I  surrender,  Messieurs,"  said  Conde",  raising  the 
visor  of  his  helmet  and  extending  his  gauntlets. 
"  Saint- Jean  !  D'Argence  !  "  he  cried,  to  two  Catho- 
lic gentlemen,  who  at  once  dismounted  and  came  to 
his  side. 

"  Our  lives  to  save  yours ! "  cried  Chabanes, 
brandishing  his  sword.  Instantly  Saint-Jean,  and 
D'Argence  raised  their  weapons  and  swore  to  risk 
their  lives  in  defence  of  Cond6's.  The  Catholic  sol- 
diery, seeing  that  Conde"  had  surrendered,  made  no 
further  attack  on  him;  but  a  Protestant  soldier, 
Soubise,  who  attempted  to  gain  his  general's  side, 
was  brutally  cut  down. 

Chabanes  had  had  the  forethought  to  lower  the 
visor  of  Montpensier's  helmet  as  the  latter  lay  still 
and  unconscious  at  Condi's  feet.  The  sight  of  their 
leader,  apparently  dead,  might  have  incited  Mont- 
pensier's men  to  the  slaughter  of  all  those  about 
him. 

As  Chabanes  spoke,  Cond6  turned  to  him  with  a 
grateful  smile.  "Were  you  not  so  brave  a  gentle- 
man, Monsieur,  and  I  not  your  debtor,  I  should  be 
tempted  to  laugh  at  the  cut  of  your  armor,"  he  said, 
half-sorrowfully. 

Other  Catholics  followed  the  example  Chabanes 
had  set,  and  soon  the  great  captive  was  entirely  sur- 
rounded by  a  body  of  chivalrous  gentlemen.  In  the 
meanwhile  the  royal  army  was  pursuing  the  remnants 
of  the  Huguenot  forces,  and  column  after  column 
wheeled  by  the  tree  where  Louis  de  Cond6  remained, 


A   BATTLE  AND  A   STRANGER  151 

now  on  one  knee.  After  a  time  his  keen  blue  eye 
perceived  in  the  distance  the  crimson  cloaks  of  the 
Due  d'Anjou's  guard.  Pointing  to  them  he  called 
the  attention  of  D'Argence.  The  latter  turned  deadly 
pale,  crying,  "  Hide  your  face,  Monsieur !  " 

Conde"  knew  as  well  as  did  every  one  of  the  gentle- 
men who  stood  about  him  that  the  implacable  hatred 
of  Anjou  was  about  to  be  satisfied  by  the  death 
of  the  Protestant  leader.  Muttering  a  prayer  of 
resignation  the  captive  let  down  his  visor  and  awaited 
his  fate.  Montesquieu,  the  captain  of  the  guards, 
had  passed  before  he  heard  the  name  of  the  pris- 
oner. "  Mordioux !  "  he  cried  in  fury,  "  kill  me  that 
heretic  dog !  " 

A  minute  later  a  man  rode  up  behind  the  tree 
while  the  attention  of  all  was  elsewhere,  and  aimed 
a  blow  with  his  sword  at  the  head  of  the  defenceless 
Montpensier.  Luckily,  Chabanes,  who  was  still  stand- 
ing beside  the  prince,  turned  opportunely,  and  again 
recognized  the  German  assassin,  Besme,  from  whose 
treachery  he  had  but  an  hour  before  rescued  his 
friend.  The  count  sprang  forward  in  time  to  ward 
off  the  blow  with  his  sword.  At  the  same  time 
he  dexterously  wrenched  Besme's  sword  from  his 
grasp  and  prodded  the  German's  horse  sharply;  he 
was  unable  to  restrain  a  smile  as  the  furious  fel- 
low's wounded  steed  carried  him  away  at  a  rapid 
pace. 

Simultaneously  there  was  a  shot  behind  him,  and 
the  count's  eyes  turned  on  one  of  the  most  cowardly 
acts  in  history.  Montesquieu,  captain  of  Anjou's 
guard,  fearing  lest  his  order  to  kill  Conde  might 


I $2  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

not  be  obeyed,   had  ridden  back  at  a  gallop    and 
shattered  the  prisoner's  skull  from  behind. 

Chabanes  leapt  from  his  horse  and  knelt  beside 
the  prostrate  form  of  Conde,  decently  composing 
the  valiant  Huguenot's  stiffening  limbs.  When  he 
arose  he  saw  approaching  rapidly  a  group  of  horse- 
men, whom  he  at  once  recognized  as  gentlemen  of 
the  Prince  de  Montpensier.  Instantly  the  count 
mounted  his  horse  and  retired  to  a  spot  some  dis- 
tance away,  whence  he  observed  the  discovery  of 
Montpensier  by  the  latter's  gentlemen. 

Satisfied  that  his  friend  was  now  in  safety,  Cha- 
banes at  once  rode  away  by  a  circuitous  path,  and 
so  avoided  an  encounter  with  any  of  the  gentlemen 
that  remained  on  the  field.  He  picked  his  way  care- 
fully among  the  dead  and  wounded,  until  at  length 
he  came  up  with  a  man  that  was  lying  face  downward 
and  one  of  whose  legs  was  apparently  pinioned  beneath 
the  carcass  of  a  horse. 

The  man  was  moaning  terribly,  and  the  count  was 
moved  to  ride  close  to  him  and  see  if  he  could  be 
freed  from  the  weight  of  the  animal.  In  order  to  dis- 
cover if  he  was  wounded,  Chabanes  dismounted  and 
knelt  beside  the  man ;  scarcely  had  he  done  so  when 
he  felt  a  sharp  pain  in  his  left  wrist,  and  instantly  the 
supposed  wounded  man  had  sprung  to  his  feet,  thrown 
himself  into  the  count's  saddle,  and  dashed  away. 
For  the  third  time  Chabanes  recognized  Besme,  who 
had  evidently  lain  in  waiting  for  the  count  as  the 
latter  was  leaving  the  field. 

Chabanes  instantly  drew  a  pistol  from  his  belt  and 
fired  at  the  retreating  German.  The  latter's  horse 


A  BATTLE  AND  A   STRANGER.  153 

leaped  into  the  air  and  fell;  this  time  Besme  found 
himself  in  reality  pinned  to  the  ground. 

Chabanes  took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to 
examine  the  wound  in  his  wrist;  it  proved  to  be  a 
deep  scratch  from  a  dagger,  the  point  of  which  had 
slipped  between  the  plates  of  his  armor.  Unless  the 
weapon  had  been  poisoned,  the  scratch  was  suffi- 
ciently trivial.  Then  the  count  leisurely  advanced 
to  where  the  German  lay  now  moaning  in  unsimu- 
lated  pain.  Besme,  expecting  the  strange  knight 
to  put  him  to  the  sword  at  once,  was  greatly  sur- 
prised when  the  latter,  instead,  contented  himself 
with  calmly  gazing  at  his  would-be  assassin  through 
the  bars  of  his  closed  visor. 

"  Monsieur,"  implored  the  German,  weakly,  "  I 
know  not  who  you  are  nor  what  perverse  fortune 
continually  throws  you  in  my  path,  but  I  entreat  you 
to  spare  my  life  and  to  help  me  to  crawl  from  be- 
neath this  weight  that  is  crushing  me." 

Chabanes  reflected  a  moment  and,  at  length,  plac- 
ing the  staff  of  a  broken  halberd  beneath  the  body 
of  the  horse,  succeeded  in  raising  the  latter  so  that 
the  German  was  enabled  to  draw  out  his  badly 
bruised  limb.  The  count  turned  Besme  over  with 
his  mailed  foot,  and  drawing  his  sword  placed  its 
point  at  the  German's  throat. 

"The  next  time  we  meet,  M.  de  Besme,"  he 
said,  disguising  his  voice,  "  one  of  us  shall  die." 

The  German  trembled  with  terror.  The  voice  was 
strangely  familiar  to  him.  He  almost  began  to  be- 
lieve that  he  had  to  deal  with  a  spirit  from  the 
nether  world,  and  no  living  man. 


154  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Chabanes  sheathed  his  sword  and  moved  away, 
leaving  the  German  beside  the  body  of  the  horse. 
Presently  the  count  found  an  animal  that,  unwounded, 
had  lost  its  rider.  He  mounted  it  and  rode  off  to 
the  north. 


XIV 

AN  ENCOUNTER  AND  A  RECEPTION 

THREE  months  and  a  half  after  the  battle  of 
Jarnac  the  Due  d'Anjou,  accompanied  by  the 
Due  de  Guise  and  an  escort  of  forty  cavaliers,  was 
returning  to  Loches  from  Luynes,  whither  they 
had  gone  to  inspect  some  new  fortifications.  By 
mutual  consent  the  leaders  of  the  Catholic  and  the 
Huguenot  armies,  finding  their  forces  greatly  ex- 
hausted and  depleted,  had  granted  numerous  leaves 
of  absence,  and  a  virtual  armistice  was  in  effect.  The 
Due  d'Anjou,  with  Guise,  had  been  stationed  at 
Loches,  from  which  point  he  was  superintending  the 
construction  of  numerous  fortresses  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. Anjou  and  Guise,  bitter  rivals  from  childhood, 
had  during  the  last  year  of  the  war  tacitly  agreed  on 
a  simulated  friendship  as  the  most  politic  convention 
between  them.  To  see  them  riding  along  side  by 
side  jesting  and  laughing  merrily,  a  stranger  would 
have  set  them  down  for  men  that  had  always  been 
the  fastest  of  friends  and  the  most  sympathetic  com- 
panions, and  whose  attachment  for  each  other  bade 
fair  to  endure  throughout  their  lifetimes. 

The  road  they  traversed  wound  bewilderingly 
through  a  dense  oak  forest,  whose  massive  trees  cast 
cooling  shadows  over  the  dusty  highway.  The  ac- 


156  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

companying  cavaliers  that  formed  a  portion  of 
Anjou's  guard  were  clothed  in  uniforms  of  dazzling 
hues,  embroidered  with  gold  and  embellished  with 
laces.  The  crimson  cloak  was  their  especial  badge, 
and  sweeping  plumes  trailed  from  their  gold-braided 
hats.  The  costumes  of  the  two  young  dukes  were 
even  richer  than  these.  Guise's  haughty  head  was 
crowned  with  a  black  velvet  toque  adorned  with 
white  plumes ;  over  a  doublet  of  gray  and  silver  he 
wore  a  white  scarf  with  fringe  and  fleur-de-lys  of 
gold ;  his  hose  and  velvet  mantle  were  of  scarlet,  and 
his  long  thigh-boots  were  turned  down  below  his 
knees.  The  Due  d'Anjou  was  equally  gay  in  a 
bodice  of  purple  slashed  with  scarlet,  gray  hose,  and 
a  gold-embroidered  crimson  cloak. 

Monsieur,  the  king's  brother,  was  a  young  man  of 
majestic  figure  and  bearing.  His  features  were  regu- 
lar like  those  of  his  mother,  Catherine  de  Medicis, 
from  whom  he  had  inherited  a  command  of  expres- 
sion that  made  dissimulation  the  most  natural  thing 
for  him  in  the  world.  Insincerity  was  portrayed  in 
his  every  feature,  his  bland  smile  as  well  as  his  lack 
of  spontaneity  in  speech  and  gesture  inspiring  imme- 
diate distrust.  He  possessed  a  chin  that  betokened 
tenacity,  eyes  in  which  shone  cunning  and  deceit, 
and  a  coarse,  sensual  mouth.  He  was  accomplished, 
like  Guise,  as  a  soldier  and  a  courtier,  few  persons  in 
the  court  presenting  a  more  chivalrous  demeanor. 
He  loved  ostentatious  profligacy,  and  was  fastidious 
and  indolent  as  well  as  excitable  and  impulsive. 

The  party  had  reined  in  their  horses,  and  as  they 
proceeded  at  a  walk  along  the  shady  roadway  they 


AN  ENCOUNTER  AND  A   RECEPTION         157 

made  a  brilliant  picture  against  the  dark  green  of 
the  forest. 

Guise  and  Anjou  were  some  paces  in  advance  of 
their  escort.  They  were  engaged  in  a  frivolous  dis- 
cussion of  the  relative  brilliancy  of  diamonds  and 
rubies,  having  compared  these  gems  to  certain  ladies 
of  the  court,  when  the  Due  d' Anjou  suddenly  drew 
his  watch,  noted  the  hour,  and  began  glancing  un- 
easily up  and  down  the  road. 

"Per  mafi!"  he  exclaimed,  petulantly,  using  a 
Gascon  oath  that  he  had  of  late  affected  as  a  man- 
nerism, "  it  is  already  half-past  three,  and  we  have 
not  yet  come  to  the  end  of  this  interminable  forest. 
I  am  afraid,  my  dear  Henri,  that  we  have  lost  our 
way,  and  shall  be  compelled  to  seek  shelter  at  some 
near-by  chalet." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  retorted  Guise ;  "  I  tell  you  I  know 
this  road  thoroughly,  and  if  you  will  trust  me 
as  guide,  I  shall  lead  you  to  Loches  within  the 
hour." 

"  Very  well,  Monsieur,  since  you  wish  it,  you  shall 
conduct  us.  But  I  will  lay  you  a  wager  your  self- 
confidence  will  soon  vanish." 

"  As  to  that,"  replied  Guise,  "  we  shall  see.  In 
the  meantime  I  pray  you  to  have  no  anxiety." 

The  two  laughed  heartily  in  a  spirit  of  causeless 
hilarity  that  the  very  atmosphere  seemed  to  foster. 
Guise  was  thoroughly  confident  of  his  ability  to 
find  the  way,  and  Anjou  decided  to  rely  on  him. 

The  conversation  drifted  back  to  the  ladies  of  the 
court. 

"  Were  I  you,  Monsieur,  "  exclaimed  Guise,  in  a 


158  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

tone  of  raillery,  "  I  should  use  every  occasion  to 
extol  the  emerald." 

"And  why  the  emerald?"  demanded  Anjou, 
puzzled. 

"  Because  there  is  nothing  else  in  all  the  universe 
besides  the  emerald  that  can  be  compared  with  the 
flashing  eyes  of  Mile,  de  la  Chateauneuf.  'Twin 
emeralds  set  in  gleaming  ivory,'  as  our  worthy  poet, 
Clement  Marot,  says,  you.  know." 

"  I  call  a  truce,  Henri,"  Anjou  cried ;  "  we  were 
speaking  only  in  the  most  general  terms,  and  of  a 
sudden  you  stoop  to  personalities." 

"  I  will  not  grant  the  truce,  Monsieur,"  protested 
Guise,  laughing.  "  You  cannot  take  offence  at  so 
sincere  a  compliment  to  your  mistress'  eyes !  " 

"  Granted,  then !  "  agreed  the  other.  "  But  I 
must  have  retaliation,  and  I  know  of  no  other  means 
than  to  question  you  directly  on  your  own  love 
affairs." 

"  I  fear  that  will  be  but  poor  sport,  Monsieur," 
replied  Guise,  deprecatingly.  "  You  know  too  well 
the  history  of  my  affections  is  dull  at  best." 

"  Ah,  but  confess  now !  You  have  a  mistress  of 
unsurpassed  beauty,  wit,  and  virtue,  I  '11  warrant. 
Tell  me  her  name  and  hiding-place,  that  I  may  have 
the  honor  of  worshipping  at  her  shrine." 

The  Due  de  Guise  met  the  bantering  tones  of  his 
companion  without  flinching.  "  I  will  admit,"  he 
said,  slowly,  and  with  fine  sarcasm,  "  that  I  have 
often  been  enamoured  of  a  fair  face  or  a  sparkling 
wit,  and  I  may  at  times  have  faintly  pressed  my 
suit;  but  experience  has  taught  me  that  M.  d'Anjou 


THE    TWO   YOUNG    MEN    PERCEIVED  A  SMALL  SKIFF 


AN  ENCOUNTER  AND  A   RECEPTION          159 

is  so  widely  known  among  the  ladies  of  France  that 
a  simple  soldier  like  myself  stands  no  chance  of  being 
favored  by  them." 

Anjou  bit  his  lips,  but  forced  a  smile,  crying, 
"  Come,  Henri,  I  will  not  take  '  No '  for  an  answer. 
There  was  a  time  when  we  were  children  together 
at  Amboise,  and  you  always  claimed  to  be  the  cav- 
alier of  no  less  a  personage  than  Marguerite,  my 
sister.  But  she,  fickle  girl,  as  you  well  remember, 
one  day  declared  herself  to  the  king,  our  father,  in 
favor  of  the  youthful  Marquis  de  Beaupr^au  !  " 

This  time  it  was  Guise's  turn  to  wince.  He  con- 
cealed any  evidence  of  Anjou's  blow  having  struck 
home,  by  adroitly  calling  his  companion's  attention 
to  a  quiet  body  of  water  in  sight  of  which  they  had 
just  come. 

The  forest  walls  had  suddenly  diverged,  revealing 
a  broad  crystal  lagoon,  evidently  formed  by  the 
abrupt  widening  of  a  sluggish  stream.  The  spot 
had  apparently  been  chosen  as  a  ford  because  as 
the  river  widened  it  decreased  in  depth;  neverthe- 
less, the  stillness  of  the  water  and  its  dark  color 
boded  no  shallow  crossing-place.  Hardly  had  the 
two  young  men  arrived  at  the  water's  edge  when 
they  perceived,  idly  drifting  in  the  midst  of  the 
stream,  a  small  skiff  in  which  were  seated  three 
women.  As  the  distance  from  the  bank  was  not 
great,  it  was  easy  to  distinguish  the  features  of  the 
women,  and  the  young  men  were  simultaneously  struck 
with  the  extreme  beauty  of  one  of  them  in  particular. 
Seeing  that  they  had  not  yet  been  noticed  by  the 
fair  occupants  of  the  boat,  who  were  intently  watch- 


l6O  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

ing  two  fishermen  some  distance  up  stream,  Guise 
and  Anjou,  actuated  by  a  common  impulse,  quickly 
withdrew  behind  a  clump  of  trees  and,  signalling  to 
their  approaching  escort  to  halt,  held  a  consultation 
of  war. 

"  What  a  magnificent  creature  the  central  one  is !  " 
exclaimed  Anjou,  ecstatically.  "To  think  that  so 
fair  a  flower  should  bloom  so  far  from  the  court  of 
France !  " 

"  She  is  indeed  beautiful,"  assented  Guise,  "  and  I 
foresee  a  most  pleasant  adventure  in  our  having 
found  her.  But  we  must  decide  quickly  on  a 
means  of  becoming  more  intimately  acquainted 
with  her." 

"  Let  us  call  her  to  the  shore  and  offer  her  our  purses 
if  she  will  ferry  us  across  the  river,"  suggested  Anjou. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Monsieur,"  replied  Guise,  dryly,  "that 
we  might  underestimate  the  lady's  quality  —  " 

"  Nonsense,  Henri,"  expostulated  the  other.  "  Could 
there  be  in  all  France  a  lady  of  such  marvellous  beauty 
without  her  existence  being  known  to  either  myself 
or  you?" 

"  Doubtless  you  are  right,  Monsieur,"  continued 
Guise,  with  a  bland  smile ;  "  but  let  us  proceed  with 
caution  at  first,  nevertheless.  I  propose  that  we  call 
her  to  the  shore,  frankly  explain  our  quality  and 
predicament,  and  throw  ourselves  on  her  mercy. 
Once  pity  is  awakened  in  a  woman's  breast,  Heaven 
alone  knows  what  may  follow !  "  Guise  crossed  his 
hands  in  such  absurd  mock  seriousness,  as  he  uttered 
this  last  remark,  that  his  companion  could  not  refrain 
from  laughing  heartily. 


AN  ENCOUNTER  AND  A  RECEPTION          l6l 

"  Agreed  !  "  cried  Anjou.  "  You  shall  be  our  guide 
on  the  road  to  the  feminine  heart,  as  you  have  been 
on  this  dusty  highway.  But  mind  you  reach  the 
goal  in  better  time,  and  let  no  counter  attractions 
divert  you  from  your  course !  " 

Anjou  then  made  a  sign  to  the  captain  of  the 
guard,  who  was  the  same  Montesquiou  whom  we 
have  seen  at  Jarnac  assassinate  the  Prince  de  Conde. 
The  two  young  men  rode  slowly  to  the  bank,  the 
soldiery  following  at  the  usual  distance. 

The  Due  de  Guise,  forming  a  trumpet  of  his  hands, 
hailed  the  occupants  of  the  boat,  who,  turning  at  the 
sound,  manifested  much  surprise  at  the  interruption. 
One  of  the  women,  raising  her  voice  as  high  as  pos- 
sible, inquired  what  was  wanted ;  whereupon  Guise 
replied  in  a  polite  tone  that  they  were  soldiers 
returning  to  their  quarters  and  that  they  had  lost 
their  way.  The  women  appeared  to  be  holding  a 
consultation  for  a  moment  or  two  after  this,  and  the 
young  men  were  delighted  to  see  that  they  had  lifted 
their  oars  and  were  preparing  to  row  toward  the 
bank.  A  score  of  strokes  sufficed  to  propel  the 
skiff  to  the  young  men's  feet. 

The  beautiful  woman  that  Guise  and  Anjou  had  so 
greatly  admired  raised  her  glance  modestly  and  gave 
a  sudden  gasp  of  surprise,  blushing  furiously  in  a 
manner  that  heightened  her  exquisite  comeliness. 
Guise,  on  his  part,  started  as  though  he  had  been 
struck,  and  raised  his  hand  to  his  eyes  in  a  gesture 
of  incredulity.  Anjou  and  the  other  two  women 
watched  this  little  pantomime  with  amazement. 

In  another  moment  Guise  had  regained  his  com- 


1 62  A  PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

posure  sufficiently  to  remove  his  toque  and  bow 
most  deferentially. 

"  Could  there  be  any  possibility  of  my  mistaking 
the  loveliest  woman  in  all  France,"  he  said,  gallantly, 
"  I  should  declare  that  I  have  not  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  Mme.  la  Princesse  de  Montpensier." 

Victoire,  for  she  it  was  in  the  boat  with  two  of  the 
ladies  of  the  chateau,  crimsoned  again,  and  replied, 
modestly,  "  The  meeting  is  none  the  less  agreeable 
for  its  unexpectedness,  M.  de  Guise." 

Guise  then  gracefully  presented  Anjou,  whose 
amazement  at  the  acquaintance  of  the  two  was  lost 
sight  of  in  his  admiration  for  the  lady's  great  beauty. 

"  We  were  returning  to  Loches,"  Anjou  explained, 
"and  notwithstanding  M.  de  Guise's  protestations 
that  he  knew  the  road,  had  completely  lost  ourselves, 
when  our  anxious  eyes  were  greeted  with  the  lovely 
vision  of  a  nymph  and  her  naiads  drifting  on  this 
idyllic  stretch  of  water." 

"  And  we  must  beg  of  you,  Madame,"  Guise  con- 
tinued," that  you  be  our  good  fairy  to  the  extent  of 
directing  us  on  our  way." 

The  discovery  that  this  rural  beauty  was  none 
other  than  the  Victoire  de  M6zieres  to  whom  he  had 
once  been  so  ardently  attached  and  whom  he  had 
never  succeeded  in  entirely  forgetting,  put  quite  an- 
other color  on  the  adventure  Guise  had  promised 
himself.  Mme.  de  Montpensier,  on  the  other  hand, 
after  the  first  sensation  of  surprise  and  joy  at  seeing 
her  girlhood  hero,  experienced  a  deep  foreboding  of 
evil  in  the  happening.  Notwithstanding  Chabanes' 
disapproval,  she  had  never  put  on  Guise's  act  of  send- 


AN  ENCOUNTER  AND  A  RECEPTION         163 

ing  her  the  book  an  evil  construction.  Her  confidence 
in  Guise  was  so  great  as  to  compel  her  to  be  most 
lenient  in  judging  his  intentions,  and  finally  she  had 
almost  decided  that  he  had  sent  her  the  marked 
volume  in  a  spirit  of  idle  humor  and  on  an  impulse 
that  meant  no  wrong.  Still,  at  times,  when  Cha- 
banes'  words  arose  most  vividly  in  her  mind,  she  was 
filled  with  a  vague  doubt  in  regard  to  Guise  that 
pained  her  more  cruelly  than  she  would  admit  to  her- 
self. Besides,  there  was  a  feeling  of  disappointment 
that  arose  from  her  frequent  involuntary  comparisons 
of  the  young  duke  with  the  Comte  de  Chabanes. 
Guise  must  be  the  soul  of  honor ;  he  was  the  greatest 
noble  in  France,  except  the  king;  and  he  was  the 
trusted  leader  of  the  great  French  Catholic  Church. 
Surely  he  was  incapable  of  real  wrong;  and  yet  — 
and  yet  he  lacked  something  that  was  the  very 
basis  of  Raoul's  character.  Why  could  not  M.  de 
Guise  make  love  like  M.  de  Chabanes?  She  could 
not  deny  that  her  heart  beat  with  unusual  rapidity 
at  the  sight  of  the  handsome  and  courageous  gentle- 
man for  whom  she  had  formerly  had  so  great  an 
inclination. 

The  etiquette  of  hospitality  demanded  that  she 
press  these  chance  visitors  to  return  with  her  to  the 
chateau  —  which  she  becomingly  did ;  yet  she  feared 
the  consequences  of  a  meeting  between  her  husband 
and  his  former  enemy.  The  Prince  de  Montpensier 
had  returned  to  Champigny  during  the  temporary 
cessation  of  hostilities  between  the  two  armies,  and 
he  was  at  that  very  moment  hawking  in  a  neighbor- 
ing preserve  with  the  Comte  de  Chabanes. 


1 64  A  PAKFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

Anjou,  who  knew  nothing  of  Guise's  former  attach- 
ment for  Victoire,  hastened  to  express  his  delight  at 
the  invitation  she  extended,  intimating  that  his  long 
ride  had  greatly  fatigued  him,  and  accepting  in  the 
name  of  both  himself  and  the  Due  de  Guise.  The 
latter  would  have  gladly  foregone  the  pleasure  and 
trusted  to  some  future  occasion  to  bring  Victoire  and 
himself  together  without  the  presence  of  Anjou,  who, 
he  instinctively  feared,  might  prove  to  be  a  dangerous 
rival  in  this  as  in  other  affairs.  As  there  was  no 
retreating,  however,  he  decided  to  make  the  best  of 
it  all,  and  he  added  his  grateful  thanks  to  those  of  his 
companion. 

Having  obtained  from  Victoire  directions  as  to  the 
road  to  Loches,  Anjou  sent  his  men  by  a  ford  higher 
up  the  river  to  that  place,  telling  Montesquieu  that 
he  would  have  no  further  use  for  their  services  until 
the  morrow,  when  he  would  return  with  the  Due  de 
Guise  to  headquarters. 

Guise  and  Anjou  then  took  the  proffered  seats  in 
the  boat,  which  they  quickly  propelled  across  the 
stream,  the  horses  having  been  sent  around  by  the 
upper  ford  with  one  of  Anjou's  men.  On  the  oppo- 
site bank  of  the  river  they  found  the  horses  and 
grooms  of  Mme.  de  Montpensier  and  her  ladies. 
Anjou  gallantly  assisted  Victoire  to  mount,  Guise 
courteously  holding  her  horse's  bridle,  and,  pre- 
ceded by  Victoire's  ladies,  the  two  dukes  walked  on 
either  side  of  the  princess  in  the  direction  of  the 
chateau. 

"  We  have  explained  our  presence  here,  Madame," 
said  Anjou,  when  they  were  well  on  their  way ;  "  may 


AN  ENCOUNTER  AND  A   RECEPTION          165 

we  not  demand  of  you  how  it  happened  that  we  were 
so  fortunate  as  to  discover  so  rare  a  jewel  in  so  lovely 
a  setting?" 

"  By  merest  chance,  I  assure  you,  Monsieur," 
replied  Victoire,  laughing  gaily  at  the  elaborate  com- 
pliment. "  I  was  about  to  accompany  my  husband 
and  M.  le  Comte  de  Chabanes,  our  guest,  to  the  chase, 
when  I  was  attacked  by  a  slight  headache.  Later, 
when  the  gentlemen  had  departed,  my  headache  took 
wings,  and,  hearing  that  the  men  were  taking  salmon 
in  the  river  and  at  '  Apollo's  Lake,'  as  we  at  Cham- 
pigny  call  the  spot  where  you  first  saw  me — " 

"  Henceforth  we  shall  dedicate  it  to  Aphrodite," 
interrupted  Guise. 

"  —  I  decided  to  witness  the  sport,"  Victoire  con- 
tinued, ignoring  the  duke's  remark.  She  was  fearful 
of  encouraging  him  in  his  compliments,  resolving  to 
give  him  not  the  slightest  grounds  for  belief  that  he 
might  ever  again  command  the  entrance  to  her  heart. 
"And  so,  you  see,  there  was  nothing  remarkable 
about  my  being  in  the  boat." 

"  I  assure  you,  Madame,"  said  Anjou,  in  his  ex- 
travagant tone,  "  I  hope  never  to  see  anything  more 
remarkably  entrancing !  " 

Monsieur  was  evidently  trying  to  outdo  himself  in 
the  matter  of  compliments.  Guise  observed  this,  and 
bit  his  lips  in  unconscious  jealousy.  Victoire,  know- 
ing the  king's  brother  only  from  hearsay,  although 
attracted  by  his  handsome  face  and  courtly  manners, 
could  not  help  distrusting  him  as  an  enemy  and  rival 
of  Guise,  whom  she  could  not  but  consider  almost 
faultless.  To  discourage  the  least  impulse  on  the 


1 66  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

latter's  part  to  believe  that  her  old-time  inclination  for 
him  was  not  quite  dead,  she  felt  that  she  must  treat 
him  with  all  the  coldness  and  dignity  she  could 
summon,  although  she  knew  that  such  a  method  of 
procedure  would  pain  her  inexpressibly. 


XV 

A  REPULSE  AND   A  SUSPICION 

AS  they  neared  the  chateau  a  fear  of  the  conse- 
quences of  the  meeting  between  the  young 
dukes  and  the  prince,  her  husband,  began  to  cause 
her  no  little  anxiety.  Oddly  enough,  she  did  not  once 
think  of  how  Chabanes  would  feel  at  seeing  her  in 
company  with  Guise.  The  latter,  with  all  the  secur- 
ity of  his  pride,  felt  no  uneasiness,  notwithstanding  he 
was  about  to  become  the  guest  of  the  man  whom  he 
had  once  publicly  insulted  and  whose  life  he  had 
secretly  sought.  The  mention  of  the  Comte  de 
Chabanes  recalled  to  Guise  the  knightly  cavalier 
who  had  once  granted  him  his  life,  and  whose  life,  in 
turn,  he  had  so  unhesitatingly  promised  as  a  price  on 
the  head  of  Montpensier.  Anjou,  confident  in  his 
exalted  position  and  ignorant  of  the  complicated  web 
of  past  events  that  entangled  his  hostess,  her  husband, 
their  guest,  and  Guise,  was  light-hearted  in  the  antici- 
pation of  unusual  pleasure. 

The  party  was  met  at  the  outer  court  of  the  chateau 
by  Chabanes  and  Montpensier,  who  were  just  return- 
ing from  the  chase.  The  sport  had  been  good  and 
they  were  in  excellent  spirits  as  they  dismounted  in 
the  courtyard,  when  suddenly  the  prince's  eye  fell  on 
the  approaching  group. 


1 68  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  Diable ! "  he  muttered  uneasily.  "  We  are  to 
have  visitors,  it  seems."  And  then,  as  he  recognized 
the  Due  de  Guise  walking  beside  his  wife,  he  ex- 
claimed in  a  tone  of  intense  anger,  "  Nom  de  Dieu! 
What  insolence  is  this?  Raoul,  do  you  see?  It's 
Guise  —  Guise  —  walking  with  my  wife  !  " 

"  With  the  Due  d'Anjou  on  the  other  side,"  added 
Chabanes,  with  feigned  coolness.  He  was  trembling 
in  mingled  anger,  fear,  and  jealousy. 

"  But  how  do  they  happen  to  be  here  ? "  cried 
Montpensier,  in  unconcealed  agitation.  "  Does  my 
wife  dare,  then,  to  make  appointments  with  the  Due 
de  Guise,  to  bring  him  even  to  my  door,  into  my 
presence,  as  though  he  were  our  dearest  friend?  I 
tell  you,  Raoul,  they  shall  not  enter  my  house  —  " 

"Calm  yourself,  Charles,"  interrupted  the  count, 
gently ;  "  Monsieur  is  the  brother  of  the  king,  and  we, 
as  loyal  subjects  of  his  Majesty,  must  offer  him  every 
hospitality  within  our  power." 

"You  are  right,  of  course,"  replied  the  prince, 
with  a  violent  effort  to  control  himself.  "  But  they 
shall  not  remain  long ! "  he  added,  between  his 
teeth. 

Montpensier's  breath  was  coming  and  going  at  an 
unusual  rate,  his  teeth  were  tightly  set,  and  his  hands 
betrayed  his  nervousness  by  the  manner  in  which 
they  were  alternately  opening  and  closing.  Cha- 
banes, on  the  other  hand,  had  summoned  all  his 
strength,  and  he  met  Victoire  and  her  escorts  with  his 
most  captivating  smile. 

"  This  is  indeed  a  delightfully  unexpected  honor," 
he  said,  fearing  that  Montpensier's  lack  of  self-control 


A  REPULSE  AND  A   SUSPICION  169 

would  not  permit  him  to  receive  the  distinguished 
guests  cordially. 

The  prince,  however,  advanced  toward  them,  ex- 
tending his  hands  with  the  best  semblance  of  welcome 
he  could  assume. 

"  You  seem  excited,  my  dear  Montpensier,"  said 
Anjou,  noticing  the  prince's  agitation ;  "  has  any- 
thing serious  occurred?" 

Chabanes  again  took  the  liberty  of  speaking  in  his 
friend's  stead.  "  M.  de  Montpensier's  agitation  is 
easily  explained.  He  finds  it  most  embarrassing  to 
be  unable  to  receive  so  great  a  prince  according  to 
his  quality." 

Guise  winced  at  the  evident  slight;  the  count  had 
referred  only  to  the  Due  d'Anjou. 

"  As  for  that,"  replied  Anjou,  graciously,  "  M.  de 
Montpensier  may  spare  himself  all  anxiety.  Our 
coming  has  been  most  accidental,  and  we  have 
already  received  so  cordial  a  welcome  from  this 
charming  princess  that  we  shall  always  feel  our  in- 
ability to  discharge  the  obligation." 

So  far  Victoire  had  said  nothing.  She  was 
anxiously  regarding  her  husband,  fearing  that  his 
emotion  would  render  him  unequal  to  the  occasion, 
and  Chabanes  noted  that  she  was  excessively 
pale. 

She  seized  the  opportunity  offered  by  Anjou's 
words  to  explain  the  circumstances  of  her  encounter 
with  him  and  Guise. 

By  degrees  the  prince  became  master  of  himself  to 
such  an  extent  that  he  appeared  at  ease,  though  he 
was  content  to  allow  much  of  the  duty  of  hospitality 


I/O  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

to  devolve  on  the  count,  who  played  his  part 
admirably. 

Throughout  the  dinner  hour  the  Due  de  Guise, 
resolved  to  make  the  best  of  the  situation,  constantly 
sought  by  every  device  to  gain  the  attention  of 
Victoire,  exerting  himself  to  the  utmost  to  be  agree- 
able and  pleasing.  Anjou  followed  his  example,  and 
the  count,  although  he  saw  with  pleasure  that  Vic- 
toire was  determined  to  hold  the  dukes  at  a  distance, 
was  tortured  with  the  most  violent  jealousy.  It  was 
evident  to  him  that  the  princess  found  great  pleasure 
in  the  society  of  Anjou  and  Guise,  —  particularly  of 
the  latter,  —  regardless  of  her  dissimulation. 

Opportunity  offering,  Victoire  spoke  privately  with 
Guise.  "  M.  le  Due,"  she  said,  in  a  tone  that  scarcely 
concealed  her  deep  concern,  "  I  have  wondered  long 
and  uneasily  what  could  have  prompted  you  to  send 
me  the  marked  volume  I  received  some  time 
ago." 

"  Did  you  not  enjoy  its  perusal,  Mme.  la  Princesse  ?  " 
asked  Guise,  who  had  half  forgotten  the  book. 

"  It  seemed  a  useless  thing  at  the  least,  bad  in  its 
tendencies  and  unamusing.  I  scarce  knew  what  to 
make  of  it  —  or  you." 

"  It  was  but  an  idle  pleasantry,  Madame,  I  assure 
you.  I  had  not  intended  you  to  take  seriously  a 
single  word  of  it,  "  protested  Guise,  beginning  to  fear 
lest  he  had  overstepped  the  strict  propriety  the 
princess  ever  required. 

She  did  not  reply.  "Why  did  he  send  it?"  she 
thought,  unsatisfied.  "It  would  have  been  the  last 
thing  of  which  Raoul  could  have  thought." 


A  REPULSE  AND  A  SUSPICION  171 

Guise  hastened  to  change  the  subject  of  conversa- 
tion. The  moonlight  being  bright,  he  proposed  a 
stroll  about  the  park,  to  which  Montpensier  consented 
as  best  he  could.  The  prince  led  the  way  out  to 
the  avenue,  followed  by  Guise,  who  had  so  gallantly 
offered  his  arm  to  Victoire  that  she  dared  not  refuse, 
while  Chabanes,  with  a  pretence  of  enthusiasm, 
engaged  Anjou  in  conversation  relative  to  a  certain 
breed  of  hounds. 

The  gentle,  pleasing  voice  of  the  Due  de  Guise, 
combined  with  the  enchanting  influence  of  the  silent, 
romantic  night,  was  not  without  its  effect  on  Vic- 
toire, and  after  a  time  she  noted  with  alarm  the 
increasing  pleasure  that  she  found  in  her  hero's 
companionship.  She  had  listened  with  heaving 
breast  and  sparkling  eyes  to  his  glowing  descriptions 
of  incidents  of  war.  Her  husband  had  told  her  the 
same  stories  often  before,  but  till  now  they  had  never 
possessed  an  absorbing  interest  for  her.  Guise, 
noticing  the  effect  his  words  produced,  pressed  every 
advantage  to  the  utmost. 

Victoire,  in  alarm  at  last,  was  on  the  point  of 
proposing  their  return  to  the  chiteau  when,  tripping 
over  a  vine  that  lay  across  a  bypath  into  which  she 
had  unconsciously  allowed  herself  to  be  led,  she  lost 
her  slipper.  Guise  was  at  her  feet  instantly. 

"  Madame,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  full  of  suppressed 
passion  and  that  thrilled  her  strangely,  "  did  I  not 
know  you  for  the  most  virtuous  lady  in  France,  I 
should  accuse  you  of  having  lost  this  slipper  pur- 
posely, that  you  might,  in  permitting  me  to  replace 
it,  torture  me  the  more  with  the  privilege." 


1/2  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"Torture,  Monsieur?"  asked  Victoire,  not  grasping 
the  significance  of  his  words. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Guise,  with  feigned  sadness  and 
humility.  "  Ah,  there  is  no  use  in  denying  it,  Victoire  ! 
I  have  never  wavered  in  my  feeling  for  you.  As  a 
girl  I  loved  you  madly,  and  now,  when  I  see  you  a 
woman,  even  more  divinely  beautiful  and  noble  than 
you  were  when  I  knew  you  before,  the  smouldering 
embers  of  my  passion  leap  into  consuming  flame,  my 
heart  is  torn  by  uncontrollable  emotion —  " 

"  That  is  enough,  Monsieur !  "  interrupted  Victoire, 
haughtily.  "  You  will  oblige  me  by  at  once  conduct- 
ing me  to  my  friends." 

"  Victoire,  forgive  me  !  For  I  am  mad  with  love 
and  know  not  what  I  say.  Ah,  you  will  not  be  so 
cruel  to  me  !  I  am  humbly  repentant  —  " 

"  Monsieur  should  not  make  it  necessary  for  me  to 
repeat  my  request,"  insisted  Victoire,  firmly.  "  If 
you  do  not  care  to  grant  it,  and  at  once,  I  shall  return 
alone." 

"  Pardieu,  you  shall  not !  "  exclaimed  Guise,  beside 
himself  with  the  first  disappointment  of  the  kind  that 
his  life  had  known.  As  Victoire  made  a  move  to 
carry  her  threat  into  execution,  he  seized  her  about 
the  waist,  crying,  "  You  shall  not  leave  me  thus  with- 
out one  word !  " 

The  princess  was  trembling  with  terror.  She  hesi- 
tated between  the  overwhelming  desire  to  release 
herself  from  Guise's  grasp  and  a  fear  of  the  conse- 
quences should  she  make  an  outcry.  At  this  moment 
the  voice  of  the  Comte  de  Chabanes  was  heard  within 
five  paces  of  the  spot  where  they  stood.  Guise  at 


A  REPULSE  AND  A  SUSPICION  173 

once  released  Victoire,  and  in  the  same  instant  Anjou, 
Montpensier,  and  the  count  appeared  from  behind  a 
clump  of  trees. 

"  St.  Huberts  are  the  most  courageous  after  all," 
Chabanes  was  saying.  His  voice  was  pitched  in  an 
inordinately  high  key,  as  though  he  wished  to  drown 
out  all  other  sound,  and  it  was  evident  that  neither 
Anjou  nor  Montpensier  was  paying  the  slightest 
attention  to  his  discourse,  both  of  them  being  in- 
tent on  regarding  every  shadow  with  the  closest 
scrutiny. 

Chabanes  had  followed  the  stratagem  by  which 
Guise  had  succeeded  in  leading  Victoire  from  the 
avenue  into  the  bypath,  and  he  had  noticed  the  agita- 
tion with  which  the  prince  had  seen  them  disappear. 
Indeed,  Montpensier  was  on  the  point  of  following 
his  wife  in  rage  and  ordering  her  to  return  to  the 
chateau,  when  the  count  called  to  him,  compelling 
him  to  rejoin  Anjou  and  to  take  part  in  the  frivolous 
discussion  of  dogs  that  Chabanes  was  forcing  with  all 
his  skill.  The  count  then  guided  their  steps  toward 
the  spot  where  Victoire  and  Guise  had  disappeared, 
pitching  his  voice  high  as  they  approached,  with  the 
result  that  has  been  seen. 

"  Ah,  M.  d'Anjou,"  exclaimed  Guise,  quite  as 
though  nothing  had  happened,  "  is  not  Champigny  a 
fairy  spot?  Can  you  reproach  me  now  with  having 
been  a  poor  guide?  " 

"  I  begin  to  believe  now,"  rejoined  Anjou,  regain- 
ing his  good-humor  with  the  sight  of  Victoire  again, 
"  that  you  misled  us  purposely.  Such  being  the 
case,  rest  assured  I  forgive  you  with  all  my  heart, 


1/4  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

in  the  hope  that  you  will  make  many  more  such 
'  mistakes  ' !  " 

Chabanes  easily  penetrated  Victoire's  hastily  as- 
sumed mask  and  saw  that  she  was  greatly  agitated. 
"  Messieurs,"  he  said,  regretfully,  "  it  is  shameful  that 
we  cannot  continue  to  enjoy  this  radiant  night,  but  I 
fear  Madame  will  find  it  is  growing  too  damp  for 
her." 

"  I  was  about  to  suggest  that  we  return  on  that 
account,"  said  Victoire,  eagerly  seizing  the  excuse 
Chabanes  held  out  to  her.  She  took  the  arm  of  the 
prince,  who  cast  a  look  full  of  gratitude  at  the  count, 
and  they  led  the  party  slowly  back  to  the  chateau. 

Now,  it  chanced  that  the  apartments  that  were 
generally  devoted  to  the  uses  of  royal  or  distin- 
guished visitors  had  been  unoccupied  for  so  long 
a  time  that  they  were  in  no  fit  state  for  the  accommo- 
dation of  Guise  and  Anjou.  Montpensier,  therefore, 
was  constrained  to  offer  these  gentlemen  his  own 
apartments. 

To  Guise  was  allotted  as  his  sleeping-chamber  that 
in  which  stood  the  antiquated  suit  of  mail  that 
Chabanes  had  worn  at  Jarnac.  On  glancing  around 
the  room  the  duke  perceived  this  black  armor,  and 
he  was  at  once  seized  with  the  impression  that  he 
had  seen  this  same  suit  of  mail  before.  He  deter- 
mined to  examine  it.  The  marked  peculiarities  of 
its  construction  in  the  old  style  recalled  the  battle 
of  Jarnac  and  the  strange  cavalier  who  had  worn  it 
and  who  had  so  heroically  defeated  the  attempts  of 
Besme  on  the  life  of  Montpensier. 

"  Evidently,"  he  thought,  "  this  armor  belongs  to 


A  REPULSE  AND  A  SUSPICION  175 

Montpensier,  and  was  worn  by  some  one  connected 
with  his  household.  Who  could  it  have  been?" 

Then,  a  sudden  light  flashing  over  his  conscious- 
ness, "The  Comte  de  Chabanes,  by  the  shield  of 
Mars !  "  he  exclaimed,  a  look  of  grim  humor  steal- 
ing over  his  countenance.  "  Then  Besme  was  thrice 
in  arm's-length  of  his  reward,  and  failed  to  take  it ! " 

The  following  morning  Anjou  found  Guise  alone 
and  strolling  about  the  park  before  the  chateau. 

"  Is  it  not  a  shame,"  exclaimed  the  latter,  when 
the  customary  greetings  had  been  exchanged,  "  that 
we  must  leave  the  delightful  society  of  this  quaint 
old  place  after  so  short  a  stay?" 

"  I  shall  not  go  without  great  regret,"  admitted 
Anjou,  frankly.  "But  must  we  leave  at  once?"  he 
added,  with  a  ludicrous  look  of  despair. 

"  Come,  come,"  remonstrated  Guise,  jestingly ; 
"  surely  Monsieur  is  not  going  to  allow  himself  to 
be  restrained  from  his  martial  duties  by  discourses 
on  the  breed  of  dogs !  " 

"  You  know  right  well  I  am  not ! "  replied  Anjou. 
"  But  you  must  confess,  Henri,  that  you  are  not 
averse  to  our  remaining  here  another  day,  and  espe- 
cially another  night,  eh?" 

Guise  strove  hard  to  keep  down  the  blood  that 
suffused  his  handsome  features.  "Well,  since  you 
believe  as  much,"  he  said,  lightly,  "  let  us  make  the 
best  of  our  presence  here  and  stay  until  to-morrow." 

"  Agreed  !  "  exclaimed  Anjou,  heartily.  "  And 
who,  pray,  may  be  this  Comte  de  Chabanes,  who 
discourses  so  ardently  on  the  superiority  of  St. 
Huberts  ?  The  name  has  a  slightly  familiar  sound." 


1 76  A  PARFIT  GENTIL   KNIGHT 

"  If  I  am  not  mistaken  he  is  a  Huguenot  suspect 
whom  the  queen-mother  has  forbidden  to  appear  at 
court  —  " 

"And  whom  she  permits  to  reside  at  Champigny 
because  of  the  eloquence  on  his  behalf  of  Mont- 
pensier?"  interrupted  Monsieur. 

"  The  same.  For  the  rest,  he  is  a  swordsman  of 
great  skill  and  courage,  filled  with  a  highly  exag- 
gerated sense  of  chivalry." 

"And  his  position  in  regard  to  Mme.  de  Mont- 
pensier  is —  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  unless  it  be  that  of  peacemaker 
between  the  princess  and  her  husband,  who,  it  would 
seem,  is  boorishly  jealous  of  his  glorious  spouse." 

"  Chabanes  is  not  her  lover?  " 

"  Impossible !  "  exclaimed  Guise,  deprecatingly. 
"  True,  he  is  handsome  in  his  way,  and  accom- 
plished, but  this  princess,  if  I  have  judged  her 
rightly,  prefers  another  stamp  of  man." 

"  Still,"  continued  Anjou,  but  half-convinced,  "  it 
were  small  wonder  if  these  two,  left  alone  here  for 
many  months,  should,  from  sheer  lack  of  other  op- 
portunities, become  seriously  attached  to  each  other. 
I  like  not  the  air  of  unconscious  familiarity  with 
which  they  address  each  other." 

"  Nevertheless,  it  is  the  surest  sign  of  a  friendship 
that  precludes  more  serious  inclinations,"  replied 
Guise,  with  a  shrug. 

"At  least,  granting  your  premise,  we  must  call 
him  a  man  of  ice,"  said  Monsieur.  He  added 
mentally,  as  he  saw  Montpensier  and  the  count 
sauntering  toward  them  from  the  direction  of  the 


A   REPULSE  AND  A  SUSPICION  \*]J 

chateau,   "  If  my   suspicions   are   verified    we   shall 
find  a  means  of  separating  these   two  '  friends.' " 

Neither  Montpensier  nor  the  count  looked  in  the 
least  the  freshness  they  feigned.  The  prince  had 
spent  a  sleepless  night,  torn  by  his  emotions,  while 
Chabanes  had  not  even  gone  to  bed,  so  tortured 
had  he  been  by  his  fears  for  the  prince  and  Victoire, 
and  by  his  desire  to  have  her  comfort  unmarred 
by  disagreeable  incident  or  interference.  In  great 
measure  he  had  succeeded  in  stifling  his  own  furi- 
ous jealousy,  ever  putting  self-interest  from  him  and 
looking  at  things  only  as  they  concerned  the  woman 
he  so  madly  adored  and  the  friend  to  whom  he  owed 
so  much  gratitude. 


12 


XVI 

A  RUSE  AND  AN  INTERVENTION 

/TpHE  morning  passed  without  incident,  the  count 
-*•  devoting  himself  to  the  entertainment  of  all, 
and  to  the  prevention  of  any  private  interview  be- 
tween Guise  and  Victoire.  The  latter  paid  respect- 
ful attention  to  Anjou,  so  that  Monsieur  was  elated 
in  the  belief  that  he  had  made  a  most  favorable 
impression  and  had  gained  the  advantage  over  Guise, 
whom  the  princess  practically  ignored.  The  after- 
noon threatened  to  pass  in  the  same  manner,  much 
to  the  disappointment  of  the  Due  de  Guise,  who 
eagerly  watched  for  an  opportunity  to  press  his  suit 
with  the  beautiful  hostess.  He  accordingly  began 
to  cast  about  him  for  some  means  of  obtaining  a  few 
moments  alone  with  Victoire.  It  chanced  that  in 
passing  through  the  court  that  morning  Guise  had 
noticed  beside  the  great  well  a  beautiful  Angora 
cat,  which  was  industriously  performing  the  morning 
ablutions  of  a  numerous  family  of  very  young  kittens. 
Having  excused  himself  for  a  moment  toward  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon,  he  went  out  to  the  court 
and,  as  he  expected,  found  the  Angora  and  her 
family  where  he  had  seen  them  before.  Selecting 
one  of  the  kittens  he  carried  it  back  into  the  great 
hall,  where  the  company  was  assembled,  and  feigned 


A  RUSE  AND  AN  INTERVENTION  179 

great  admiration  for  the  little  creature,  as  he  ten- 
derly stroked  its  shivering  body.  The  Due  d'Anjou 
had  from  infancy  possessed  an  intense  abhorrence 
for  cats,  and  no  sooner  did  his  eyes  fall  on  the 
innocent  kitten  than,  feigning  a  slight  indisposition, 
he  begged  that  he  might  be  excused,  as  he  desired  to 
walk  awhile  in  the  park.  Montpensier,  not  under- 
standing his  guest's  peculiarity,  volunteered  to  ac- 
company him;  but  Chabanes,  penetrating  Guise's 
ruse,  remained  with  the  latter  and  Victoire. 

Guise  now  saw  that  it  would  be  next  to  impossible" 
to  rid  himself  of  the  presence  of  the  count,  who,  he 
began  to  realize,  had  resolved  to  guard  Mme.  de 
Montpensier  faithfully  from  the  slightest  temptation 
or  unpleasantness.  Victoire  happening  to  mention 
Chabanes'  accomplishments  as  a  musician,  Guise 
instantly  discerned  an  opportunity,  and  pressed  the 
count  to  favor  them  with  a  song.  In  this  he  was 
joined  by  Victoire,  eager  to  have  her  friend  display 
the  talent  of  which  she  was  so  proud,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  duke,  whose  approbation  she  so  highly  valued. 
The  count  readily  consented,  at  the  suggestion  of 
Guise  rendering  a  beautifully  passionate  love-song 
that  had  been  a  favorite  of  Victoire's  before  her 
marriage. 

Guise,  noiselessly  crossing  the  room,  seated  him- 
self beside  Victoire,  saying,  "  Madame,  there  is  a 
simple  little  story  that  goes  wonderfully  well  with 
that  song.  Will  you  let  me  relate  it?" 

Victoire,  who  had  almost  forgiven  the  duke's  con- 
duct on  the  night  before,  since  he  had  appeared  so 
humbly  penitent  and  remorseful  all  day,  and  who 


180  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

was  moved  by  an  intense  desire  to  listen  again  to  the 
musical  tones  of  his  soft  voice,  at  once  consented. 

Chabanes,  who,  lute  in  hand,  had  begun  to  sing, 
saw  at  once  how  neatly  he  had  been  trapped  by 
Guise.  He  must  sing  the  song  through  while  his 
favored  rival,  before  his  very  eyes,  conversed  with 
the  mistress  of  his  heart.  He  saw  that  the  duke 
spoke  earnestly,  gazing  steadily  into  the  fascinated 
eyes  of  Victoire  with  a  look  that  poured  out  volumes 
of  intensest  yearning  and  pleading.  He  watched 
Guise,  little  by  little,  draw  closer  to  the  woman  he 
loved,  till  his  face  was  within  a  few  inches  of  hers, 
till  he  knew  that  their  warm  breaths  intermingled 
intoxicatingly.  He  could  see  that  Guise,  both  by 
his  personality  and  his  words,  exercised  an  immense 
influence  over  Victoire,  for  her  bosom  heaved  with 
emotion,  and  her  lips  were  drawn  in  an  ecstasy  of — 
was  it  pity,  compassion,  sympathy,  or  love?  His 
heart  beat  high  and  the  blood  rushed  through  his 
brain  in  mad  torrents.  He  was  helpless,  and  Victoire 
was  in  mortal  danger  of  being  fascinated,  captivated 
beyond  recall  by  this  man,  as  beautiful  and  wily 
as  a  serpent.  The  prince's  wife  was  being  insulted, 
tempted,  wooed  in  her  husband's  house,  and  before 
her  lover's  eyes !  The  impulse  to  spring  on  Guise 
and  strangle  the  dishonest  breath  from  his  body 
seized  Chabanes  with  awful  fury,  and  he  was  com- 
pelled to  summon  the  entire  strength  of  an  invincible 
will  to  hold  himself  in  check, —  to  keep  his  hands 
off  the  man's  throat.  He  began  to  feel  that  Victoire 
loved  the  duke,  —  not  as  Guise  would  have  her  love 
him, —  Guise  the  unscrupulous,  conscienceless,  ruth- 


A   RUSE  AND  AN  INTERVENTION  l8l 

less  incarnation  of  sensual  Self,  —  but  that  he  was  in 
every  way  her  hero,  her  idol,  her  ideal.  He  was  filled 
with  a  fear  that  he  would  be  unable  to  save  his 
friend's  happiness  and  home  —  that  Guise  with  his 
fine  words  would  ruin  all.  The  tide  of  jealousy 
swept  madly  through  his  disordered  mind ;  the  sense 
of  injustice  —  that  a  love  as  true  and  noble  as  he 
felt  his  own  to  be  should  be  ignored  for  a  passion  as 
unworthy  as  that  of  the  beast  that  now  so  fiendishly 
gloated  over  his  lady  —  wrung  a  terrible  cry  from 
his  heart,  while,  dominating  all,  the  voice  of  con- 
science cried  to  him  that  he  must  rescue  Victoire 
and  preserve  the  honor  of  the  prince  at  any  cost. 

And  all  this  time  there  poured  from  his  throat  a 
flow  and  flood  of  song  such  as  neither  Guise  nor 
Victoire  had  dreamed  possible;  it  seemed  that  all 
the  terrible  conflict  in  his  soul  found  expression 
in  the  wailing  notes  of  this  simple  love  melody.  So 
the  song  of  Chabanes  more  magnificently  accom- 
panied the  tale  of  passion  that  Guise  poured  into  Vic- 
toire's  ears  than  any  music  in  the  world  could  have 
done,  and,  all  unmindful,  he  himself  furthered  im- 
measurably the  momentary  cause  of  his  rival.  Filled 
with  a  hitherto  unknown  fervor  by  the  mad  harmony 
of  words  and  song,  Victoire  unconsciously  allowed 
herself  to  be  carried  far,  far  out  on  the  sea  of  pas- 
sion that  surrounded  her  interminably  on  every  side. 
Chabanes,  at  the  climax  of  his  song,  saw  her  great 
blue  eyes,  which  stared  so  steadily  into  those  of  Guise, 
slowly  fill  with  tears  that  threatened  to  overflow  the 
kohl-dark  lashes. 

The  singer  stopped  short,  the  lute  slipped  from  his 


1 82  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

nervous  grasp  and  fell  with  a  crash  to  the  floor,  and 
he  staggered  drunkenly  to  the  wall  for  support. 
Victoire,  suddenly  brought  to  her  senses,  sprang 
away  from  Guise  and  ran  to  the  count  as  though  she 
sought  refuge,  —  a  haven  from  the  storm  of  passion 
that  overwhelmed  her.  Guise,  bewildered  at  the 
sudden  silence,  gazed  in  amazement  from  the  woman 
to  the  singer.  At  that  moment  the  ring  of  flying 
hoofs  and  the  furious  barking  of  Hercules  were  heard 
below ;  there  was  an  indistinct  chattering  of  numer- 
ous voices ;  and  the  Due  d'Anjou,  followed  by  Mont- 
pensier,  burst  into  the  room. 

"  My  dear  Henri,"  said  the  former,  addressing 
Guise,  and  without  noticing  the  varying  and  intense 
emotions  depicted  on  the  faces  of  the  duke,  the 
princess,  and  Chabanes,  "  I  regret  to  inform  you 
that  a  message  from  the  Marechal  de  Tavannes  states 
that  LusSgnan  is  about  to  be  attacked  and  that  our 
immediate  presence  at  Loches  is  greatly  desired. 
In  all  probability  I  shall  ask  you  to  undertake  the 
relief  of  the  besieged  town." 

Montpensier  and  Chabanes  accompanied  Anjou 
and  Guise  for  some  distance  on  their  journey  to 
Loches.  After  the  prince  and  the  count  had  left 
them  the  two  great  leaders  of  the  Catholic  army 
rode  several  leagues  without  speaking  a  word.  Pres- 
ently Anjou  demanded  brusquely  of  his  companion, 
"  Are  you  still  thinking  of  Mme.  de  Montpensier, 
then?" 

"  It  is  quite  evident  that  you  judge  my  thoughts 
by  your  own,"  responded  Guise,  ill-humoredly.  He 
was  assured  that  Anjou  had  fallen  a  victim  to  the 


A   RUSE  AND  AN  INTERVENTION  183 

same  malady  that  possessed  him,  and  fearing,  from 
Victoire's  evident  interest  in  the  king's  brother,  a 
powerful  rival,  he  decided  to  conceal  his  love,  which 
he  had  begun  to  regard  as  a  most  serious  matter. 

"  Well,  my  dear  Henri,"  said  Anjou,  in  his  suavest 
tone,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "  I  confess  that  I  am 
unable  to  rid  myself  of  the  gracious  souvenir  of  the 
most  captivating  woman  I  have  ever  seen." 

There  was  another  silence  of  some  minutes  before 
Anjou  asked,  "  Henri,  where  have  you  known  this 
lady  before?  You  seemed  like  old,  long-parted 
friends,  when  you  met." 

Guise,  affecting  surprise  that  Monsieur  was  still 
thinking  of  Victoire,  replied  in  a  light,  inconse- 
quential tone. 

"  She  came  dangerously  near  being  my  sister-in- 
law,  at  one  time  having  been  engaged  to  my  brother, 
the  Due  du  Maine.  I  forget  the  exact  circumstances 
that  gave  her  instead  to  Montpensier.  You  will 
agree  with  me  that  she  has  been  wasted  on  one  who 
is  by  much  her  inferior." 

"  With  all  my  heart !  "  cried  Anjou,  emphatically. 
"  There  are  many  queens  that  are  in  no  manner  her 
equals." 

"  Still,"  continued  Guise,  with  affected  indifference, 
"  her  beauty  has  never  seemed  so  dazzling  to  me  as 
it  has  to  many." 

"Be  that  as  you  will,  Henri,"  replied  Anjou; 
"but,  for  my  part,  I  have  never  known  so  incorn- 
parable  a  princess  ;  and  were  I  to  be  frequently 
exposed  to  the  light  of  her  beauty  I  should  greatly 
dread  the  results." 


1 84  *  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  And  so  it  is  to  be  a  duel  between  us,  and  to  the 
death,"  thought  Guise.  "  Nor  is  it  one  from  which 
Henri  de  Lorraine  shall  shrink,  for  he  would  rather 
win  this  glorious  creature,  and  take  her  from  beneath 
the  very  clutches  of  all  the  court,  the  king  included, 
than  sit  on  the  throne  of  Charles  IX." 

Oddly  enough,  so  great  was  the  influence  the 
princess  had  exerted  over  the  desires  of  these  great 
rivals,  the  same  desperate  thoughts  occupied  the 
mind  of  Anjou.  These  two  ambitious  men,  deterred 
by  no  scruple  in  all  the  world,  not  even  that  of  fear, 
felt  at  the  same  moment  the  coming  conflict,  the 
sense  of  which  this  woman's  fatal  fascination  had 
implanted.  Their  meditations,  from  participation  in 
which  no  thought  was  too  dark  or  loathsome,  were 
not  less  gloomy  than  their  faces,  as  they  rode 
slowly  into  Loches;  not  even  the  prospect  of  bat- 
tle for  a  kingdom  could  divert  their  thoughts.  The 
Marechal  de  Tavannes,  cunning,  cruel,  and  impatient 
to  crush  out  of  France  the  enemies  of  his  religion 
and  his  king,  could  not  divine  the  cause  of  his  com- 
mander's tardiness. 

The  message  that  Gaspard  de  Tavannes  sent  to 
Anjou  was  quickly  followed  by  another  that  required 
the  presence  of  Montpensier  with  his  men.  The 
prince  left  Champigny  in  no  good  frame  of  mind 
with  regard  to  Victoire,  whom  his  jealousy  unrea- 
sonably blamed  with  having  been  found  in  the  boat 
by  Guise  and  Anjou,  and  with  having  received  them 
with  entirely  too  much  cordiality,  considering  her 
husband's  feelings  toward  the  guests  she  had  in- 
vited. His  jealousy  even  suggested  that  Victoire 


A   RUSE  AND  AN  INTERVENTION  185 

had  been  purposely  ill  on  the  day  of  the  chase,  in 
order  that  she  might  meet  the  dukes  and  bring  them 
to  Champigny  during  her  husband's  absence. 

Chabanes,  on  his  part,  was  greatly  relieved  by  the 
departure  of  Guise  and  Anjou,  and,  although  Mont- 
pensier  said  nothing  to  him  in  regard  to  their  visit, 
he  saw  plainly  the  ill-humor  under  which  his  friend 
was  laboring.  The  count  would  gladly  have  told 
the  prince  that  his  suspicions  of  his  wife  were  unjust 
and  unreasonable,  but,  fearing  to  make  a  bad  matter 
worse  by  reopening  so  recent  and  virulent  a  wound, 
he  refrained.  Victoire  felt  her  husband's  peevish- 
ness to  be  very  oppressive,  though  she  was  inno- 
cently ignorant  of  its  cause,  believing  that,  now  he 
was  rid  of  unwelcome  guests,  he  should  be  in  excel- 
lent spirits. 

The  day  after  the  departure  of  Anjou  and  Guise, 
the  count,  finding  himself  alone  with  Victoire,  deter- 
mined to  relieve  himself  of  the  suspense  that  hung 
over  him  in  the  form  of  a  question  as  to  how  much 
influence  the  visit  of  Guise  had  exerted  over  her. 
He  quickly  brought  the  conversation  around  to  the 
subject  of  the  Due  de  Guise. 

"  Victoire,"  he  said,  gently,  "  do  you  still  look  on 
me  with  as  much  confidence  and  lack  of  reserve  as 
ever?" 

"  Why,  yes,  of  course,  Raoul,"  was  the  astonished 
reply.  "  Why  do  you  ask  such  a  question  ?  " 

"You  have  said  nothing  to  me  of  M.  de  Guise 
since  his  visit,  whereas  you  used  to  speak  of  him 
constantly." 

"  But  you  forget  that  I  have  as  yet  had  no  oppor- 


1 86  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

tunity,"  said  Victoire.  "  Charles  does  not  enjoy  the 
subject,  and  this  is  the  first  time  we  have  been  alone 
together." 

"  True,"  replied  the  count,  sadly,  "  this  is  the  first 
time.  But  now  that  we  are  on  the  subject,  I  want 
to  ask  you  one  question.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  have 
the  right  to  ask  it,  but  you  have  always  been  so  free 
with  me  that  —  doubtless  you  will  not  greatly  resent 
it." 

"  You  know  there  are  few  questions  you  could  ask 
me  that  I  would  resent,  Raoul." 

"  Well,  it  is  this :  since  the  Due  de  Guise  came  has 
your  feeling  toward  him  undergone  any  change?" 

Victoire  regarded  the  count  thoughtfully  for  a  few 
moments.  "  I  have  discovered,"  she  said,  slowly, 
"  that  M.  de  Guise  has  not  overcome  the  rash  impul- 
siveness that  characterized  him  as  the  younger  man  I 
knew  before.  For  the  rest,  he  has  the  more  firmly 
established  my  opinion  of  him  as  a  brilliant  and 
courageous  prince." 

Chabanes  could  not  restrain  a  sigh,  which  Victoire 
noted  with  a  puzzled  air.  "  There  has  been  no  other 
change?"  he  asked. 

"  None,  Raoul." 

"  You  have  not  discovered  that  what  you  first 
termed  '  admiration  '  may  yet  prove  to  be  —  some- 
thing more?" 

"  Raoul,"  replied  the  princess,  earnestly,  "  you  do 
not  trust  rne.  Must  I  tell  you  again  that  nothing  can 
ever  shake  my  resolution  to  bar  from  my  heart  all 
interests  save  those  of  friendship  ?  " 

"  Ah,  but  Victoire,"  cried  the  count,  "  you  do  not 


A  RUSE  AND  AN  INTERVENTION  1 87 

answer  my  question.  For  the  sake  of  our  friendship 
—  for  your  husband's  sake  —  tell  me  you  do  not  love 
the  Due  de  Guise." 

"Unhesitatingly.  I  do  not  love  him.  But  I  like 
him." 

The  count  made  no  reply.  Victoire  for  some 
time  sat  with  her  head  resting  pensively  on  her 
hand. 

"  I  half-fancied  I  loved  him  once,  you  know,"  she 
continued,  finally;  "but  that  was  all  a  silly  girl's 
imagination.  I  know  now  that  I  never  loved  any 
one,  and  I  believe  I  never  shall.  Do  you  know  what 
Mother  Tastevin,  the  gypsy,  told  me  ?  That  I  shall 
love  a  man  some  day  as  no  woman  ever  loved  before, 
and  that,  although  I  shall  know  him  long  before 
love  comes,  when  it  does  come  it  will  be  too 
late." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  ejaculated  Chabanes.  "  I  thought 
you  above  listening  to  the  gibberish  of  gypsies." 

"  So  I  am,  Raoul,"  replied  Victoire,  seriously.  "  But 
of  all  the  things  that  fortune-tellers  have  predicted 
for  me  that  alone  has  remained  with  me,  and  I  catch 
myself  pondering  it  often,  wondering  what  it  can 
mean." 

"  Naturally  you  would  remember  such  a  prediction 
longer  than  any  others;  its  importance  being  so 
great  in  comparison  —  " 

"  No,  it  is  not  that.  It  is  because,  notwithstanding 
my  conviction  that  what  men  call  '  love '  is  a  sealed 
book  to  me  and  ever  shall  be,  I  sometimes  fear  — 
But,  as  you  say,  it  is  all  nonsense.  Of  one  thing  I  am 
certain :  if  I  could  feel  toward  a  man  as  you  —  " 


1 88  A   PARFIT  GENTJL  KNIGHT 

She  stopped  abruptly  and  regarded  the  count  with 
a  look  of  regret 

"  Go  on,"  he  said,  his  voice  sounding  strangely 
hoarse. 

"  It  is  something  we  agreed  never  to  refer  to 
again." 

"  Tell  me  what  it  is,  Victoire." 

"  I  was  going  to  say,"  she  went  on,  hesitantly,  "  that 
if  I  could  feel  toward  a  man  as  you  —  once  said  you 
could  feel  —  toward  a  woman,  I  should  —  Ah,  but 
there,  I  do  not  know  what  I  should  do.  Besides,  we 
are  talking  of  improbabilities  while  the  sun  is  shining 
and  the  birds  are  singing.  Come,  let  us  go  for  a  ride 
in  the  park  and  stop  cudgelling  our  brains  over 
unrealities ;  "  and  she  laughed  merrily. 

Chabanes,  sighing,  made  an  effort  to  catch  the 
spirit  of  her  sudden  mirth  and  followed  her  out  into 
the  park. 

Ten  days  after  Montpensier's  departure  from 
Champigny,  Chabanes  received  a  letter  from  him 
stating  that  Guise,  although  ordered  to  Lusignan,  had 
hastened  to  the  relief  of  Poitiers,  which  city  was  in  a 
state  of  siege.  Poitiers  being  at  a  distance  of  but  ten 
leagues  from  Champigny,  the  prince  advised  Cha- 
banes to  make  immediate  preparations  to  depart  for 
Paris  with  Victoire,  so  that  she  might  not  be  too  dan- 
gerously near  the  seat  of  war.  Also  Montpensier 
enclosed  the  exoneration  of  "  M.  Raoul  de  la  Tour 
d'lvoire,  Comte  de  Chabanes,  wrongly  suspected  of 
complicity  in  the  plots  of  the  heretics,"  signed  by 
King  Charles. 

The  preparations  were  hastily  made,  and  the  journey 


A  RUSE  AND  AN  INTERVENTION  189 

was  accomplished  without  incident.  On  their  arrival 
in  Paris  the  princess,  accompanied  by  Chabanes,  went 
to  the  hdtel  of  her  father-in-law,  the  Due  de  Mont- 
pensier,  who  was  expecting  them. 

Antoinette  de  Lerac  accompanied  her  mistress  to 
Paris.  Some  time  after  her  unexpected  avowal  of 
love  for  Chabanes  she  had  obtained  from  her  mistress 
leave  to  spend  three  months  with  a  sister  who  resided 
in  a  convent  near  M6zieres,  and  after  her  return  to 
Champigny  in  June,  she  had  treated  the  count  with 
her  former  respect,  frequently,  he  thought,  avoiding 
meeting  him.  He  was  satisfied  that  her  infatuation 
had  been  momentary,  and  that  she  had  almost  forgot- 
ten her  impulsive  confession  of  love. 

The  maid  was  intensely  religious,  almost  to  the 
point  of  superstition,  and  in  reality  she  gained  from 
faith  and  prayer  the  consolation  that  made  her  lonely 
life  endurable.  Since  the  marriage  of  her  mistress 
the  two  had  gradually  grown  away  from  each  other, 
until  their  relationship  was  simply  that  of  mistress 
and  favorite  servant,  instead  of  the  familiar  and  con- 
fidential friendship  that  had  formerly  obtained  be- 
tween them.  Antoinette  was  quick  to  realize  that 
the  Comte  de  Chabanes  had  usurped  her  place  in 
Victoire's  affections,  but  her  love  for  him  was  such 
that  she  did  not  begrudge  him  the  slightest  happiness 
purchased  by  the  sacrifice  of  herself.  She  relapsed 
into  a  state  of  constant  melancholy,  varying  her 
monotonous  life  only  with  her  religious  devotions 
and  her  small  charities  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
chateau. 

She   had    for   long  been   filled  with  the  desire  to 


I9O  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

imitate  her  sister  and  become  the  bride  of  Christ,  but 
her  disinclination  to  be  where  she  might  not  even  see 
the  Comte  de  Chabanes,  coupled  with  a  longing  to  be 
of  service  in  bringing  happiness  into  his  life  or  ward- 
ing off  possible  disaster,  caused  her  to  sacrifice  her 
thoughts  of  a  convent  life. 


XVII 

A  SUBJECT  AND  A  SOVEREIGN 

SHORTLY  after  eight  o'clock  one  evening,  about 
a  fortnight  after  his  arrival  in  Paris,  the  Comte 
de  Chabanes  decided  to  go  for  a  stroll  among  the 
neighboring  streets.  His  two  weeks  in  Paris  had 
been  spent  almost  entirely  within  doors,  and  he  was 
eager  for  a  glimpse  of  those  parts  of  the  city  that 
were  familiar  to  him  from  previous  residences  in  the 
French  capital.  Accordingly,  buckling  on  his  sword 
and  enveloping  himself  in  a  long  black  mantle,  the 
count  descended  to  the  court  and  passed  out  into  the 
street.  He  chose  no  particular  route,  but  wandered 
aimlessly,  turning  at  random  and  trusting  to  his 
knowledge  of  the  city  to  retrace  his  steps.  He 
passed  between  the  irregular  rows  of  shadowy,  gable- 
roofed  houses,  past  the  odorous  Grande  BoucheYie 
and  the  Chatelet,  where  rotted  prisoners  of  every 
class  and  condition,  and  down  the  Rue  Saint-Leufroi 
to  where  he  could  hear  the  river  rushing  through  the 
paddle-wheels  of  the  innumerable  mills.  As  at  that 
time  an  edict  prevented  the  ferrymen  from  plying  their 
boats  after  nine  in  the  evening,  he  saw  several  of  these 
worthies  hastening  to  and  fro  with  the  last  passengers 
of  the  day.  Accordingly  he  did  not  cross  the  Seine, 
but  turned  back  at  the  Pont  aux  Meuniers,  a  wooden 


192  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

bridge  near  the  Place  Vallde  de  Misere,  with  its  poul- 
try-market and  cook-shops,  where  he  heard  the 
whizzing  of  the  incessant  spits. 

Chabanes  seemed  to  breathe  in  his  surroundings 
with  great  gulps,  as  one  who  has  long  held  his 
breath  inhales  the  fresh  air.  A  thousand  memories  of 
youthful  days,  when  Henri  II.  reigned  in  France  and 
adventure  was  on  every  hand  for  the  light-hearted 
and  grave  alike,  arose  before  his  mental  vision.  At 
one  moment  the  count  met  two  cut-throats,  who  took 
to  their  heels  when  they  saw  the  sword  peeping  from 
beneath  his  cloak.  Another  time  he  encountered  a 
detachment  of  the  Civil  Watch  going  its  rounds. 
Here  and  there  a  torch  stuck  in  a  wall,  or  a  fire  burn- 
ing beneath  a  figure  of  the  Virgin,  served  to  intensify 
the  shadows.  Bands  of  roystering  young  men,  for 
the  most  part  students  of  the  University,  broke  the 
silence  with  noisy  and  ribald  songs.  Belated  beggars 
asked  alms,  exhibiting  deformed  limbs  and  hideous 
sores  to  excite  pity. 

A  man  less  fearless  than  Chabanes  would  at  this 
period  hardly  have  ventured  out  alone  in  Paris 
after  nine.  Pickpockets,  panders,  thieves,  and  assas- 
sins were  plentiful,  and  good  arms,  as  well  as  trusty 
attendants,  were  considered  requisites  for  night  strolls. 
Walking  down  the  Rue  Gamier  sur  1'Eau,  the  count 
came  to  the  Rue  des  Barres.  He  had  once  fought  a 
memorable  duel  in  the  Rue  de  la  Mortellerie,  some 
steps  distant,  and  idle  curiosity  prompted  him  to 
revisit  the  spot.  He  had  not  yet  reached  this  latter 
street,  however,  when  he  heard  the  ring  of  steel  and 
other  sounds  of  fighting,  and,  as  he  had  been 


A  SUBJECT  AND  A  SOVEREIGN  193 

inwardly  living  over  the  triumphs  of  his  former 
residence  in  Paris,  the  clang  of  crossing  blades 
awakened  in  his  veins  the  fever  for  adventure. 

"  Come,  Raoul,"  he  cried,  apostrophizing  himself, 
"we  may  yet  see  some  fine  sport,"  and  he  ran  for- 
ward, guided  by  the  uproar.  Just  before  a  high  wall 
that  surrounded  a  garden,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood 
a  small  house,  the  count  discovered  two  gentlemen 
stoutly  defending  themselves  against  the  onslaught  of 
a  force  more  than  double  their  number  and  evidently 
composed  of  street-prowlers  and  assassins.  Both 
gentlemen  fenced  skilfully,  and  in  an  even  fight 
could  easily  have  disposed  of  the  entire  lot  of  night- 
birds  one  by  one.  The  overwhelming  force,  however, 
that  rained  blows  on  them  from  every  side,  had 
pressed  them  back  close  to  the  wall,  and,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  arrival  of  the  count,  doubtless  would 
soon  have  finished  the  courageous  pair.  Chabanes, 
at  once  realizing  the  situation,  sprang  into  the  m£16e, 
brandishing  his  sword,  and  engaged  the  nearest  ruffian 
with  such  vigor  that  the  latter  was  quickly  deprived 
of  his  weapon  and  pinned  to  the  ground.  The  two 
gentlemen,  on  seeing  this  unexpected  re-enforcement, 
renewed  their  efforts  and  fought  so  desperately  that 
their  antagonists  were  forced  to  drop  their  blades  and 
take  to  their  heels. 

They  had  scarcely  disappeared  in  the  darkness 
when  the  gate  in  the  wall  opened,  and  a  tall,  pallid 
man  with  high,  though  slightly  stooping,  shoulders  and 
sharp,  penetrating  eyes,  appeared  on  the  threshold. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  in  a  calm,  dignified  tone, 
"what  means  this  unseemly  brawling?" 

13 


194  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  We  were  attacked  by  five  thieves  and  hard 
pressed  by  their  numbers,  when  this  gentleman  gal- 
lantly came  to  our  rescue  and  assisted  us  to  put  the 
villains  to  flight.  One  of  them  lies  yonder  pierced 
by  his  sword,  Sire,"  replied  one  of  the  gentlemen  ; 
and  with  the  last  word  Chabanes  learned  the  identity 
of  their  questioner.  It  was,  indeed,  Charles  IX., 
King  of  France.  Chabanes  hastened  to  remove  his 
plumed  hat  and  bow  profoundly. 

"  It  seems  this  gentleman  is  a  stranger  to  me," 
continued  the  king,  turning  his  piercing  gaze  full  on 
the  count,  who  returned  it  unflinchingly,  —  a  feat  that 
Charles  IX.  always  appreciated,  because  so  few  were 
capable  of  performing  it. 

"  Raoul  de  la  Tour  d'lvoire,  Comte  de  Chabanes, 
has  the  honor  of  paying  his  respects  to  your  gracious 
Majesty,"  said  the  count,  approaching  and  making 
another  obeisance. 

"  The  name  is  not  unknown  to  me,"  replied  the 
king,  pensively.  "  If  a  certain  report  concerning 
you  is  true,  Monsieur,  it  merely  serves  as  an  addition 
to  the  testimony  M.  de  Sauve  has  just  offered." 

"  Sire,  I  know  not  to  what  you  refer,"  said  Cha- 
banes, proudly,  "  but  if  it  is  a  good  report  I  trust  I 
am  worthy  of  it." 

"  The  reply  is  apt,  Monsieur,"  answered  the  king, 
who  turned  to  the  others  and  said,  "  Messieurs  de 
Sauve  and  de  Landi,  you  are  at  liberty  to  return  to 
the  Louvre  should  you  so  desire;  I  shall  need  no 
better  protection  to-night  than  the  sword  of  the 
Comte  de  Chabanes." 

Sauve  and  Landi  bowed,  and,  after  warmly  thanking 


A  SUBJECT  AND  A  SOVEREIGN-  195 

the  count  for  his  timely  assistance  and  expressing  a 
hope  of  meeting  him  again,  retired  in  the  direction  of 
the  Louvre.  The  king  came  out  into  the  street, 
closed  the  door  behind  him,  and  had  placed  the  key 
in  the  lock  when,  a  sudden  thought  striking  him,  he 
reopened  the  door,  saying,  "  M.  de  Chabanes,  have 
the  kindness  to  follow  me  within." 

The  count,  who  had  been  futilely  attempting  to 
recover  from  the  surprise  of  his  chance  meeting  with 
his  sovereign,  and  at  the  same  time  to  decipher  the 
meaning  of  the  king's  words  to  him,  readily  obeyed, 
following  the  king  across  the  garden  and  up  a  narrow 
staircase,  the  first  landing  of  which  they  had  scarcely 
reached  when  a  woman's  shrill  scream  resounded 
from  above. 

" Mon  Dieu!"  exclaimed  the  king,  hysterically, 
"what  horrible  thing  has  occurred?  Proceed,  Mon- 
sieur ;  I  cannot  bear  to  enter." 

Chabanes  rushed  past  the  king  to  the  head  of  the 
stairs  and  threw  open  a  door  that  barred  his  way.  A 
beautiful  young  woman,  frozen  with  horror,  was 
regarding  an  indistinct  object  that  was  moving  slowly 
across  the  white  covering  of  a  console. 

"  What  is  wrong  here,  Madame?  "  asked  the  count, 
as  the  woman  recoiled  on  seeing  a  stranger  enter  thus 
abruptly. 

"  The  beast !  "  she  cried,  in  accents  of  terror.  "  He 
will  escape,  and  in  the  night,  while  I  sleep,  he  will 
sting  me.  For  the  love  of  heaven,  capture  him  !  " 

Chabanes  advanced  to  the  console,  and  at  once  the 
mystery  became  clear.  The  "  beast "  was  a  tiny  lizard, 
scarcely  longer  than  his  finger,  that  had  managed  to 


196  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

release  itself  from  a  jewelled  collar  and  was  intent 
on  seeking  sanctuary  beneath  the  covering  of  the 
console.  The  count  at  once  captured  the  animal, 
and  confined  it  in  a  small  box  evidently  intended  for 
that  purpose.  Then  he  ran  to  the  door  by  which  he 
had  just  entered,  where  he  found  the  king,  in  the 
greatest  suspense,  waiting  without. 

"  Tell  me  what  has  happened !  "  exclaimed  the 
latter,  breathlessly. 

"  No  harm  has  been  done,  Sire,"  replied  the  count, 
trying  hard  to  suppress  a  laugh  at  the  ludicrous  fright 
of  both  the  woman  and  the  king. 

Charles  IX.  rushed  into  the  chamber  and  folded 
the  woman  to  his  breast. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,  Marie,"  he  said,  tenderly. 

"  It  was  the  lizard, "  replied  the  woman,  not  yet  re- 
covered from  her  fright ;  "  it  had  escaped,  and  might 
have  killed  me  had  not  this  gentleman  bravely 
intervened." 

"  Odious  little  creature  of  the  Florentine  devil !  " 
exclaimed  the  king,  spying  the  lizard's  box  and  petu- 
lantly tossing  it  out  of  the  window.  Then,  believing 
he  saw  the  suspicion  of  a  smile  lurking  about  the 
corners  of  the  count's  mouth,  the  humor  of  the  situ- 
ation burst  on  him  and  he  fell  to  laughing  heartily. 

"  What  a  coward  is  little  Marie  Touchet !  "  he  ex- 
claimed, kissing  the  woman,  who  stood  with  pouting 
lips,  unable  to  understand  the  cause  of  so  much  merri- 
ment at  such  a  time.  "  M.  de  Chabanes,"  he  con- 
tinued, turning  gaily  to  the  count,  "  you  have  added 
another  life  to  your  list  of  salvage  to-night." 

To   see   Charles   IX.    smile   and   hear   him   laugh 


A  SUBJECT  AND  A   SOVEREIGN  197 

heartily  was  a  privilege  accorded  to  few  men.  No 
gloomier  or  more  taciturn  monarch  ever  reigned  in 
Christendom  than  this  incarnation  of  melancholia,  who 
often  burst  into  fits  of  insane  fury,  but  rarely  into 
laughter. 

"  Marie,"  continued  the  king,  his  good-humor  in- 
creasing, "  this  gentleman  who  has  just  rescued  you 
from  the  monster  is  the  Comte  de  Chabanes  of  whom 
I  was  speaking  to  you  some  time  since." 

"  Is  this  the  gentleman  of  Jarnac,  Sire  ?  "  asked 
Marie,  wonderingly. 

"  This  is  the  gentleman  who,  clad  in  an  antiquated 
suit  of  mail,  so  gallantly  rode  into  the  fiercest  charge 
of  the  day  and  rescued  his  dearest  friend  from  an 
assassin  that  struck  from  behind.  He  it  is,  also,  who 
has  ever  since  maintained  absolute  silence  about  the 
matter." 

"  But,  Sire  —  "  began  the  count,  in  amazement. 

"You  see  how  much  the  king  must  know,  Mon- 
sieur," continued  the  sovereign,  smiling.  "  There  are 
no  secrets  from  him  !  " 

Marie  Touchet  gazed  proudly  at  her  lover-king  as 
he  spoke  these  words.  "  I  thank  you,  Charles,"  she 
said,  simply,  "  for  bringing  this  excellent  gentleman 
here.  Doubtless  he  has  saved  my  life  "  —  the  king 
and  Chabanes  exchanged  significant  looks  —  "  and  he 
is  one  whose  virtue,  as  you  yourself  have  just  said,  is 
more  than  rare." 

Chabanes  felt  the  color  rise  to  his  face  at  this 
naive  compliment. 

"  You  see,  Sire,"  he  exclaimed,  gallantly,  "  virtue 
again  proves  itself  its  own  reward ;  for  a  simple  deed 


198  A   PARFIT  GENTIL   KNIGHT 

I  am  honored  above  all  men  but  your  Majesty  with 
the  privilege  of  kissing  this  fair  lady's  hand."  And 
he  knelt  gracefully,  pressing  his  lips  to  the  white 
hand  that  Marie  Touchet  readily  extended.  The  king 
smiled  with  pleasure,  and  Chabanes  was  on  the  point 
of  venturing  a  request  that  the  king  relate  how  he 
had  gained  his  information  concerning  the  battle  of 
Jarnac,  when  the  latter,  moving  toward  the  door, 
said,  "  Come,  Monsieur.  You  have  seen  what  I  hold 
dearest  in  life,  and  what  few  others  have  had  the  joy 
to  gaze  on,  and  in  return  I  shall  expect  you,  in  every 
possible  event,  to  protect  this  woman  as  I  would 
myself." 

"  God  grant,  Sire,"  returned  the  count,  "  that  she 
shall  never  require  protection  ;  and  if  she  should,  that 
I  may  be  the  instrument  of  her  succor." 

He  had  often  heard  of  Marie  Touchet,  Charles  IX.'s 
bonrgeoise  mistress,  whom  the  king  loved  above  all 
persons,  and  whom  he  would  not  permit  to  come  in 
contact  with  the  intrigue  and  hypocrisy  of  the  court. 

The  king  and  Chabanes  bade  farewell  to  Marie 
Touchet  and  descended  to  the  street 

"  And  now,"  said  the  former,  when  they  had  started 
off  in  the  direction  of  the  Louvre,  "  I  shall  relieve 
your  natural  curiosity,  first  assuring  you  that  I  have 
jealously  guarded  your  secret,  imparting  it  to  no  one 
in  the  world  save  Marie,  who  is  my  sole  and  absolute 
confidante.  The  English  ambassador  related  to  me 
this  story  of  Jarnac,  which  was  for  long  the  talk  of  the 
court,  giving  as  his  authority  for  saying  that  the  name 
of  the  brave  stranger  was  your  own,  a  young  English- 
man who  fought  there  in  the  Huguenot  army  and  who 


A  SUBJECT  AND  A   SOVEREIGN  199 

had  been  a  spy  in  mine.  I  believe  his  name  was 
Raleigh.  In  saving  the  life  of  M.  de  Montpensier 
you  have  preserved  for  me  one  of  my  most  trusted 
lieutenants,  a  man  to  whose  efforts  much  of  the  suc- 
cess of  my  troops  has  been  due." 

Chabanes  was  at  a  loss  to  continue  the  conversa- 
tion. He  knew  the  king's  jealousy  for  Anjou,  and 
he  fancied  he  saw  in  this  little  eulogy  of  Montpen- 
sier a  possible  shifting  in  the  royal  mind  of  mili- 
tary glory  from  the  shoulders  of  the  one  to  those  of 
the  other.  The  sovereign  and  his  subject  walked  in 
silence  for  some  minutes.  As  they  neared  the 
Louvre  the  king  said,  "  I  am  grateful  to  you,  Mon- 
sieur, for  this  meeting  and  your  assistance.  I  want 
it  to  be  known  that  Charles  IX.  knows  and  appre- 
ciates a  brave  man  when  he  sees  one.  I  would  gladly 
have  you  of  my  household,  and  at  the  same  time  I 
would  prefer  your  loyalty  from  purely  unselfish 
motives.  You  are  welcome  at  the  Louvre,  Monsieur, 
and  from  this  moment  I  shall  count  on  you  as  one  of 
my  most  faithful  subjects." 

"  Sire,"  said  the  count,  whose  heart  beat  high  at 
these  words  from  his  sovereign,  "  I  shall  always  en- 
deavor to  be  worthy  of  the  immense  honor  you  have 
conferred  on  me  to-night.  Consider  my  life  and 
sword  ever  at  your  service." 

"And  what  of  your  heart  and  head,  Monsieur?" 
inquired  the  king,  looking  him  fully  in  the  face. 

"  They  are  entirely  yours,  Sire." 


XVIII 

A    PORTRAYAL    AND    A    PROMISE 

ON  the  following  morning  the  Comte  de  Chabanes 
met  the  Princesse  de  Montpensier  in  a  corridor  of  the 
hotel. 

"  Raoul,"  exclaimed  she,  "  you  owe  me  an  explana- 
tion." 

"  That  being  the  case,"  responded  the  count,  gaily, 
"  what  better  place  can  we  find  for  its  delivery  than 
the  salon  here,  and  what  better  time  than  the 
present?" 

"  Assuredly,  none,"  replied  Victoire,  as  the  count 
followed  her  into  a  capacious  reception-chamber  of 
the  H6tel  de  Montpensier.  "  Now,  in  the  first  place, 
where  have  you  been  these  last  few  days  and  nights  ? 
Do  you  know  that  I  have  scarcely  seen  you  since  we 
arrived  in  Paris?  " 

"  You  know,  Victoire,"  replied  the  count,  a  tinge 
of  sadness  in  his  voice,  "  that  I  am  never  away  from 
you,  even  for  the  shortest  time,  without  being  pain- 
fully aware  of  it." 

Victoire  colored  slightly  and  continued.  "You 
were  at  the  Louvre  last  night,  were  you  not?"  she 
asked. 

"  Yes,  and  was  presented  to  his  Majesty  the  king, 
her  Majesty  the  queen-mother,  — to  whom  I  owe  the 


A   PORTRAYAL  AND  A   PROMISE  2OI 

greatest  possible  debt  of  gratitude  for  having  me 
kept,  as  a  Huguenot  suspect,  away  from  Paris  and 
consequently  at  Champigny  with  you,  —  and  to  a  host 
of  other  personages." 

"  All  of  whom  received  you  with  the  greatest 
honor  and  dignity?  " 

"  Few  of  whom  paid  me  the  slightest  attention 
until  the  king,  from  some  whim  or  other,  deigned  to 
give  me  especial  notice ;  whereupon  my  popularity 
suddenly  became  something  wonderful  to  behold." 

"But  this  whim  of  the  king's,  Raoul?"  inquired  the 
princess,  insinuatingly.  "  Antoinette  informs  me 
you  were  driven  here  in  the  royal  coach  yesterday 
morning." 

The  count  briefly  related  the  events  of  the  night, 
his  visit  with  the  king  to  the  residence  of  Marie 
Touchet  and  later  to  the  Louvre,  dwelling  as  lightly 
as  possible  on  the  incident  of  the  fight  with  the  cut- 
throats and,  of  course,  omitting  the  king's  reference 
to  the  battle  of  Jarnac. 

"And  when  you  had  given  your  allegiance  of 
heart  and  head  to  the  king  at  the  gate  of  the 
Louvre  —  ?"  asked  Victoire,  deeply  interested  in  her 
friend's  adventures. 

"  His  Majesty  bade  me  au  revoir  and  entered  the 
palace,  while  I  took  my  journey  hereward.  I  had 
scarcely  proceeded  fifty  paces,  however,  when  a 
gentleman  of  the  king's  guard  came  running  after  me 
and  shouting  for  me  to  stop.  When  he  had  come  up 
he  told  me  that  I  was  wanted  at  the  Louvre,  and  that 
he  had  been  instructed  to  have  me  follow  him  there. 
At  first  I  thought  the  king  must  have  regretted  show- 


2O2  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

ing  me  so  much  confidence  and  that  he  intended  to 
prevent  any  damage  I  might  do  by  relating  broadcast 
the  incidents  of  the  evening.  Visions  of  Vincennes 
and  the  Bastille  arose  before  me  and  it  was  in  a 
gloomy  frame  of  mind  that  I  returned.  Instead,  how- 
ever, I  was  shown  to  an  apartment,  superbly  furnished, 
waited  upon  by  a  valet,  and  told  that  the  king  desired 
me  to  feel  at  liberty  to  make  the  Louvre  my  home  at 
any  time.  I  dared  not  refuse  the  hospitality  of  the 
king. 

"  In  the  morning,  after  breakfast  I  was  conducted  to 
the  gate,  where  the  coach  awaited  me,  and  I  was  placed 
inside  by  a  guardsman,  who  merely  said,  '  By  order 
of  the  king'  and  whirled  away,  as  I  again  supposed, 
to  the  Bastille  or  Vincennes,  but  in  reality  to  the 
H6tel  de  Montpensier." 

"And  last  night?" 

"  I  impulsively  decided  to  occupy  the  apartment 
that  had  been  allotted  me." 

"  And  why  has  his  Majesty  shown  you  such  signal 
and  early  favor  ?  " 

"That  were  difficult  to  answer.  It  is  probably 
merely  the  royal  whim,  as  I  said  before." 

"  And  do  you  feel  no  fear  at  being  the  recipient  of 
so  much  and  so  sudden  confidence?" 

"  I  have  tried  to  reason  myself  into  the  belief  that 
it  bodes  no  good,  but  the  guilelessness  of  his  Majesty 
in  my  regard  seems  unquestionable." 

"  I  trust  you  may  not  be  deceived  in  that,  Raoul," 
said  Victoire,  fervently. 

"  I  am  to  go  to  court  in  two  weeks,"  she  continued, 
presently.  "  M.  le  Due  de  Montpensier,  my  father-in- 


A   PORTRAYAL  AND  A  PROMISE  2O3 

law,  has  secured  my  appointment  in  attendance  on 
the  queen-mother." 

Chabanes  sighed  wistfully  as  he  gazed  at  the 
beautiful  woman,  who  sat  pensively  dreaming  of 
triumphs  she  would  have  in  the  great,  glittering,  and 
attractive  court  of  France.  "  You  will  conquer  all, 
Victoire,"  he  said,  gently;  "you  will  be  without  a 
rival  or  a  peer." 

"  Then,  if  you  think  that,"  said  the  princess,  gaily, 
"why  be  so  mournful  about  it?  Will  you  begrudge 
me  the  triumphs  you  predict?" 

"You  must  judge  for  yourself,  Victoire,  as  to 
whether  your  happiness  must  not  always  be  my 
own." 

"There,  there,"  cried  the  princess,  blushing  with 
shame,  "  forgive  me,  Raoul ;  I  know  that  you  would 
sacrifice  much  to  give  me  a  little  pleasure,  and  that  I 
am  the  most  ungrateful  woman  in  the  world." 

"  You  cannot  truthfully  so  accuse  yourself,"  the 
count  replied,  with  great  earnestness.  "  Do  you  not 
allow  me  the  privilege  of  often  being  by  your  side,  of 
conversing  with  you,  of  listening  to  your  voice,  and 
of  gazing  on  your  face  — "  He  stopped  short  as 
though  he  felt  he  was  transgressing  his  rights. 

"  And  you,"  returned  Victoire,  laughingly,  "  at  the 
first  opportunity  seek  adventures  in  the  streets  of 
Paris,  hobnob  with  the  king,  make  nightly  visits  to 
his  palace,  and  are  presented  to,  and  favored  by  him 
before  his  entire  court !  " 

The  count  moved  uneasily  in  his  seat,  but  did  not 
reply. 

"  Tell  me  about  the  court,  Raoul,"  said  Victoire, 


2O4  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

seriously,  after  another  short  silence ;  "  tell  me 
about  the  queen-mother  and  the  king  and  Madame 
—  yes,  above  all,  Madame.  What  is  she  like?  Is  she 
as  beautiful  as  they  say?  Is  she  so  wonderfully 
fascinating?  " 

Marguerite  de  Valois,  the  king's  beautiful,  accom- 
plished, and  alluring  sister,  was  destined  to  be,  as  the 
count  saw  plainly  enough,  the  sole  rival  at  court  that 
Victoire  need  fear.  He  had  anticipated  her  question 
and  had  long  since  decided  to  tell  her  at  once  the 
whole  truth  concerning  this  famous  beauty.  "  It  will 
be  far  better  for  Victoire  to  know,"  he  thought,  "  with 
what  manner  of  woman  she  will  have  to  deal." 

"  Madame  is  indeed  beautiful,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"  Her  complexion  is  brilliant  and  unblemished.  Her 
hair  is  luxuriant  and  black,  though  it  is  generally 
concealed  beneath  a  coiffure  of  blonde  tresses.  Her 
eyes  are  grayish-blue,  open  and  piercing,  and  shaded 
by  long  lashes.  Her  forehead  is  low  and  shapely,  her 
mouth  red  and  voluptuous,  her  chin  exquisitely 
moulded.  She  has  the  figure  of  a  nymph  and  the 
gait  of  a  queen.  Moreover,  she  is  one  of  the  most 
learned  persons  in  France,  speaking  several  languages 
fluently  and  having  all  the  world's  wit  and  philosophy 
at  her  fingers'  ends,  so  that  she  is  a  most  delightful 
conversationist.  Nine-tenths  of  the  court  are  des- 
perately in  love  with  her,  and  the  remainder,  all 
women,  enviously  hate  her." 

Victoire  listened  with  incredulous  interest.  She 
did  not  speak  at  once  when  the  count  had  finished 
his  eulogium  of  Madame,  but  arose  from  her  chair 
and  walked  absently  about  the  room.  "  Is  she,  then, 


A   PORTRAYAL  AND  A   PROMISE  2O5 

so  absolutely  flawless?"  she  asked,  at  length,  un- 
consciously stopping  before  a  long  mirror  to  glance 
at  her  own  radiant  reflection. 

"  Without  doubt,"  replied  Chabanes,  with  con- 
viction; "there  is  none  to  equal  her  in  all  France, 
with  one  single  exception." 

" Which  is—  ?" 

"The  question  is  unnecessary,  as  you  well  know, 
Victoire." 

The  princess  continued  her  absent-minded  stroll 
about  the  room.  Chabanes  eyed  her  pensively  as 
she  stepped  momentarily  before  each  mirror  to 
arrange  here  a  flower,  there  a  ribbon. 

"And  Catherine  de  Me"dicis  —  ?"  she  asked,  pres- 
ently. 

"  Has  been  a  beautiful  woman  and  is  still  a  handsome 
one.  She  is  majestic,  gracious,  fair.  More  than  that, 
she  is  cunning,  ardent,  and  polishedly  cruel.  She 
dresses  superbly.  The  king  and  his  mother  distrust 
each  other  as  thoroughly  as  did  Agrippina  and  Nero. 
He  is  tall,  pale,  and  not  unhandsome ;  moody,  pet- 
ulant, and  liable  to  violent  outbursts  of  passion.  The 
Due  d'Alengon,  his  younger  brother,  is  unscrupu- 
lous, jealous,  and  distrustful.  The  Cardinal  de  Lor- 
raine is  polished,  scheming,  and  vile." 

"  Not  a  very  promising  picture  you  draw,  surely," 
said  Victoire,  adding,  "  except  that  of  Madame,"  in  a 
way  that  made  the  count  turn  and  gaze  at  her  search- 
ingly,  as  though  to  discover  an  obscure  meaning. 

"  And  speaking  of  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,"  con- 
tinued Victoire,  paying  no  attention  to  Chabanes' 
scrutiny,  "  have  you  heard  the  latest  rumor  concern- 


2O6  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

ing  M.  le  Due  de  Montpensier  and  Claude,  niece  of 
the  cardinal  and  sister  of  the  Due  de  Guise  ? " 

"No;  what  is  it?" 

"  That  they  are  to  be  married." 

Chabanes  turned  deathly  pale.  The  full  meaning 
of  such  an  alliance  was  that  Victoire  and  the  Due  de 
Guise,  through  this  new  relationship,  would  be 
thrown  together  much  and  often.  In  a  few  short 
moments  he  lived  through  the  agonies  of  the  jeal- 
ousies to  come  when  M  de  Guise  and  Mme.  de 
Montpensier  would  discuss  the  preparations  for  the 
marriage,  and  arrange  this  function  and  that,  debat- 
ing the  thousand  trivial  questions  that  would  arise, 
and,  hand-in-hand  —  the  unfortunate  metaphor  would 
be  used  —  cementing  their  new  family  ties  in  innu- 
merable meetings. 

"  Well,  you  say  nothing.  Can  you  express  neither 
surprise  nor  joy  at  the  news?"  asked  Victoire,  in  a 
bantering  tone. 

"  Doubtless  it  will  be  an  excellent  political  alliance," 
said  Chabanes,  dryly.  "  The  houses  of  Bourbon  and 
Lorraine  have  not  been  closely  knit  in  either  mar- 
riage or  sympathy  of  late." 

Another  silence  followed  the  count's  remark.  The 
princess  broke  it  with,  "How  goes  the  war,  Raoul? 
Has  Poitiers  capitulated  ?  " 

"  No ;  nor  is  it  likely  to,  thanks  to  M.  de  Guise," 
replied  the  count,  who,  with  all  his  hatred  of  the 
duke,  would  never  disparage  the  latter's  reputation 
as  an  intrepid  soldier. 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  see  M.  de  Guise,"  mused  the 
princess  to  herself. 


A   PORTRAYAL  AND  A  PROMISE  2O/ 

"  As  well  as  M.  de  Montpensier,"  said  Chabanes, 
eying  her  narrowly. 

Victoire  started  from  her  chair  in  amazement. 
"  How  do  you  read  my  thoughts,  Raoul?"  she  cried, 
her  blue  eyes  wide  open  with  wonder. 

Chabanes  did  not  reply. 

"Yes,  as  well  as  M.  de  Montpensier," she  repeated, 
with  determination,  glancing  gratefully  at  the  count. 

The  latter  arose  and  was  about  to  leave  the  room, 
when  she  went  to  him  and  placed  her  hand  confidingly 
on  his  arm. 

"  You  will  help  me  in  everything  at  court,  will  you 
not,  Raoul?  "  she  asked,  earnestly. 

"  Trust  me ;  I  will  never  fail  you,  Victoire,"  he 
said,  simply,  as  he  went  out  into  the  corridor. 


XIX 

A  CAMP  AND  AN      INCIDENT 

DURING  the  two  weeks  that  elapsed  before  the 
presentation  of  the  Princesse  de  Montpensier 
at  court,  the  Comte  de  Chabanes  devoted  to  her 
almost  all  his  time.  He  scarcely  ever  left  the  H6tel 
de  Montpensier,  except  on  errands  for  Victoire,  and 
he  rendered  her  a  thousand  assistances  daily,  all 
of  which  she  graciously  accepted  as  a  matter  of 
course.  As  the  count  had  predicted,  the  appearance 
of  Victoire  at  the  Louvre  created  a  profound  sensa- 
tion. She  was  the  recipient  of  countless  compliments 
from  every  one,  the  king  himself  heading  the  list  with 
a  very  gallant  speech. 

An  hour  after  she  had  become  known,  all  the  men 
adored  her  and  most  of  the  women  hated  her. 
Catherine  de  Medicis,  fond  of  adding  beauty  and 
grace  to  her  "  flying  squadron  "  of  the  most  attractive 
princesses  of  France,  and  seeing  in  the  great  beauty 
of  Victoire  a  powerful  factor  for  influencing  the  hearts 
of  the  court,  received  her  with  great  apparent  cor- 
diality. Marguerite  de  Valois,  on  the  contrary,  at 
once  conceived  a  violent  dislike  for  this  woman  that 
dared  rival  her  in  beauty,  even  if  she  was  her  inferior 
in  matters  of  learning  and  accomplishment.  Her 
jealousy  was  extreme,  but,  thanks  to  the  foresight  of 


A    CAMP  AND  AN  INCIDENT  2OQ 

Chabanes,  who  had  warned  Victoire  of  Marguerite's 
probable  antagonism,  Madame  obtained  no  oppor- 
tunity to  overwhelm  the  princess  with  those  slights 
which  her  facile  mind  at  once  occupied  itself  with 
inventing. 

Chabanes,  already  known  at  court  as  a  favorite  of 
the  king,  was  greatly  envied  by  all  the  men  for  the 
evident  trust  and  confidence  that  the  princess  naively 
reposed  in  him  at  all  times.  His  heart  beat  high  at 
the  signal  triumph  its  mistress  scored,  even  while  it 
ached  with  jealousy  at  seeing  all  the  men  of  Europe's 
most  profligate  court  surround  her  covetously,  shower- 
ing her  with  compliments  and  attentions. 

With  her  unusual  wit  and  great  keenness  of  per- 
ception it  required  but  a  few  weeks'  time  for  the 
princess  to  become  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the 
life  and  characteristics  of  the  court.  Chabanes  was 
constantly  at  her  side,  moreover,  teaching  her  with 
all  the  resources  of  his  penetration  to  parry  the 
thrusts  of  her  antagonists  and  to  ward  off  the  attacks 
of  her  too  ardent  admirers.  Victoire  had  at  once 
taken  up  her  abode  at  the  Louvre  in  the  train  of  the 
queen-mother,  and  the  count  decided  to  occupy  per- 
manently the  apartments  offered  him  by  the  king 
whose  favor  gave  no  signs  of  diminishing.  The 
interest  aroused  both  by  the  princess  and  the  count 
resulted  in  the  history  of  his  residence  at  Champigny 
becoming  universally  known.  This  the  count  had 
anticipated,  and,  though  his  attentions  to  Victoire 
were  constant,  he  managed  adroitly  to  cover  them 
all  with  the  mantle  of  friendship,  so  that  even  the 
most  malicious  tongues  had  no  opportunity  to  wag 

14 


210  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

scandalously.  In  fact,  the  friendship  of  the  two  was 
so  evident  and  spontaneous  that  not  the  least  ink- 
ling of  Chabanes'  ardent  passion  for  Victoire  ever 
crossed  the  mind  of  gentleman  or  lady  of  the  court, 
with  the  possible  exception  of  the  predetermined 
Due  d'Anjou. 

Of  course  Chabanes'  intimacy  with  Victoire  aroused 
many  petty  jealousies  among  those  that  would  have 
given  half  they  possessed  to  be  the  cavalier  of  this 
fascinating  woman  during  a  single  day.  It  resulted 
that  he  had  a  thousand  forces  to  combat  daily,  both 
on  behalf  of  himself  and  Victoire,  and  these  he  skil- 
fully held  in  check  on  every  occasion. 

The  suspense  that  hung  over  the  court  as  to  the 
outcome  of  the  war  was  in  a  measure  dissipated  early 
in  September  by  the  news  that  the  siege  of  Poitiers 
at  length  had  been  raised.  A  week  later  the  Amiral 
de  Coligny  was  hung  in  effigy  on  the  Place  de  Greve 
with  great  ceremony  and  reviling  of  heretics.  Three 
more  weeks  had  scarcely  passed  when  news  of  the 
victory  of  the  Catholic  arms  at  Moncontour  reached 
Paris,  and  the  rejoicing  was  universal.  The  court 
resounded  with  the  praises  of  the  Due  d'Anjou, 
who  had  had  three  horses  shot  under  him,  and  who, 
after  the  battle,  behaved  with  much  magnanimity 
toward  the  Huguenot  captives,  having  spared,  at  his 
own  request,  even  the  life  of  the  Protestant  leader 
La  Noue,  and  by  his  personal  efforts  averted  much 
needless  bloodshed  after  the  enemy  had  fled. 

A  week  after  Moncontour  came  the  announcement 
that  the  siege  of  Saint-Jean  d'Ange"ly  had  been  begun 
by  the  Catholic  army,  and  that  the  king,  accompanied 


A    CAMP  AND  AN  INCIDENT  211 

by  the  entire  court,  would  at  once  repair  thither  to 
take  personal  charge  of  the  operations. 

Chabanes  and  Victoire  went  with  the  court  to  Saint- 
Jean  d'Angely.  To  the  latter  was  assigned  a  chamber 
in  the  pavilion  erected  for  the  ladies  of  the  royal  family, 
while  Chabanes  shared  the  tent  of  the  Prince  de 
Montpensier,  whose  joy  at  again  seeing  his  wife  and 
his  friend  was  unbounded.  Except  for  a  succession 
of  sorties  and  attacks,  the  siege  was  monotonous  from 
the  start,  and  Catherine  de  Medicis  soon  decided  to 
give  a  series  of  balls  in  order  to  diversify  the  camp 
life.  The  gentlemen  of  the  court  were  often  called 
on  to  ride  some  distance  away  with  the  ladies,  in  order 
to  protect  them  from  foraging  parties  of  the  enemy. 
On  such  occasions  the  Due  de  Guise  generally 
divided  his  attention  between  Madame  and  the  Prin- 
cesse  de  Montpensier.  Chabanes,  also,  often  accom- 
panied Victoire,  giving  her  every  opportunity  for  the 
converse  with  Guise  that  she  loved  so  well,  but  always 
guarding  her  from  being  left  entirely  to  the  duke. 

As  for  the  prince,  he  was  generally  deep  in  some 
military  problem,  consulting  with  Tavannes  and  Biron, 
and  often  with  the  king  himself. 

One  night,  when  Chabanes  and  Montpensier  were 
in  their  tent  preparing  to  retire,  they  were  discussing 
the  incentive  that  had  brought  the  king  to  Saint-Jean 
d'Angely. 

"  It  is  my  belief,"  said  the  count,  "  that  his  Ma- 
jesty has  allowed  his  jealousy  of  Anjou  to  get  the 
better  of  him.  His  brother's  fame  is  great,  —  far 
greater,  no  doubt,  than  he  deserves,  considering  the 
fact  that  he  has  acted  entirely  under  the  instructions  of 


212  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Biron  and  Tavannes.  The  king  is  fretful  and  suspi- 
cious, and  he  fears  the  popularity  of  the  heir  to  the 
throne." 

"  His  Majesty's  conduct  on  three  separate  occa- 
sions," replied  the  prince,  "  would  warrant  the  truth 
of  your  opinion.  He  directly  disregards  all  advice, 
conducting  attacks  and  defences  in  a  manner  that 
would  be  absurd  were  it  not  so  serious.  If  he  persist 
in  his  present  plans,  believe  me,  Raoul,  the  siege  of 
Saint-Jean  d'Angely  will  last  well  into  the  winter,  and 
then,  doubtless,  the  city  will  capitulate  with  only 
nominal  advantage  to  our  forces." 

"  The  king  is  indeed  reckless  if  he  thinks  that  by 
making  the  present  campaign  a  failure  he  can  lessen 
the  fame  of  his  brother.  I  half-believe  that  he  is  also 
jealous  of  the  Due  de  Guise,  and  I  am  positive  that  he 
would  like  to  have  emulated  his  ancestors  in  leading 
his  own  armies  instead  of  intrusting  that  task  to 
others,"  said  Chabanes,  reflectively. 

"  M  de  Guise  is  paying  Madame  many  attentions," 
continued  Montpensier.  "  Can  it  be  that  the  king 
suspects  him  of  aspiring  through  her  to  the  throne?" 

"It  may  be  possible,"  replied  Chabanes.  "And 
why  not?  The  Due  de  Guise  is  the  grandson  of  Louis 
XII.  His  blood  is  as  royal  as  Madame's.  He  is 
handsome,  dashing,  courageous ;  she  is  beautiful,  fas- 
cinating, the  sister  of  the  king.  He  has  audacity ;  she, 
admiration.  Tell  me,  Charles,  is  there  any  aim  Henri 
de  Guise  would  not  attempt?" 

"  I  believe  there  is  none,"  replied  Montpensier, 
bitterly. 

During  the  silence  that  ensued,  Chabanes  reflected 


A   CAMP  AND  AN  INCIDENT  213 

on  the  consolation  that  the  attachment  of  Guise  for 
Madame  might  have  for  his  friend.  There  was  every 
possibility  of  the  duke's  devoting  himself  to  the  king's 
sister  instead  of  paying  his  attentions  to  Victoire,  as 
the  prince  had  doubtless  dreaded. 

"  Raoul,"  said  the  prince,  presently,  bringing  up  a 
threadbare  subject,  "  I  have  as  yet  found  not  the 
slightest  trace  of  the  stranger  in  antiquated  armor 
that  saved  my  life  at  Jarnac.  Can  you  not  suggest 
some  clue  ?  " 

"  As  I  have  told  you,  it  was  doubtless  some  soldier 
of  fortune  eager  for  adventure,"  replied  the  count,  in- 
differently. 

"  No,  I  cannot  believe  that  it  was  not  some  friend 
of  mine,  some  one  particularly  interested  in  me. 
Why,  Raoul,  did  I  not  know  that  you  were  far  away 
at  Champigny  on  the  day  of  the  battle,  I  should  not 
hesitate  to  name  you  as  the  one  to  whom  I  owe  my 
life." 

The  count  smiled  sadly  and  was  about  to  reply, 
when  a  sudden  uproar  was  heard  without,  and  a  man, 
half-dressed,  burst  into  the  tent.  It  was  Antoine,  the 
Prince  de  Montpensier's  valet. 

"  The  enemy  are  preparing  for  a  night  attack. 
Quick,  buckle  on  your  sword,  Monseigneur ;  I  beg  of 
you  to  make  haste.  The  ladies  are  being  removed  to 
a  place  of  safety,  and  we  must  prepare  to  defend  our- 
selves at  a  moment's  notice." 

The  count  and  the  prince  donned  their  swords, 
hung  their  pistols  to  their  belts,  and  left  the  tent. 
They  found  the  camp  in  great  excitement,  this  move 
on  the  part  of  the  enemy  having  been  entirely  unex- 


214  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

pected.  Only  two  days  before,  the  Due  de  Guise,  at 
the  head  of  a  small  body  of  horsemen,  had  repulsed  a 
sortie,  driving  the  enemy  back  into  the  town  and  rid- 
ing up  to  the  very  walls  of  Saint-Jean  d' Angely. 

The  enemy  were,  indeed,  making  preparations  to 
attack.  Montpensier  had  scarcely  time  to  assume  his 
position  at  the  head  of  his  soldiery,  when  the  ap- 
proaching Huguenots  were  heard,  and  he,  together 
with  the  other  leaders,  dashed  forth  to  meet  them. 

A  full  moon  shone  on  the  combatants  as  they  en- 
gaged on  the  plain  before  the  town,  and  many  of  the 
retiring  ladies  halted  on  a  neighboring  eminence  to 
witness  the  battle  and  count  their  beads  for  the  lovers 
who  were  risking  their  lives  below. 

Evidently  it  had  been  the  intention  of  the  Huguenot 
leader,  who  had  with  him  but  a  comparative  handful 
of  foragers,  to  alarm  the  camp  and  retire  before  being 
attacked.  But  so  vigilant  had  been  the  outposts  of 
the  royal  army  that  the  Catholics  were  ready  to  re- 
ceive the  onslaught  and  return  its  impetuosity  ten  for 
one. 

The  Due  de  Guise  led  an  hundred  men  through  the 
scattered  line  of  the  enemy,  with  a  half-dozen  losses ; 
the  Prince  de  Montpensier  duplicated  this  action  at 
another  point ;  and  Anjou  did  not  even  deem  it  neces- 
sary to  mount  his  horse,  contenting  himself  with 
watching  the  conflict  from  the  height  on  which  some 
of  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  court  —  among 
them  Victoire  —  were  assembled.  The  enemy  were 
completely  routed  at  the  first  charge,  and  the  Catho- 
lic gentlemen,  as  was  their  custom,  took  advantage  of 
the  retreat  to  execute  numerous  foolhardy  feats. 


A    CAMP  AND  AN  INCIDENT  21$ 

Guise,  bidding  his  men  fall  back,  rode  single-handed 
and  at  full  speed  abreast  with  one  of  the  retreating 
Huguenots,  whose  slightly  wounded  horse  was  unable 
to  keep  pace  with  the  others,  and  demanded  his  sur- 
render. The  brave  Huguenot,  whose  right  arm  had 
been  shattered  by  a  blow  from  a  Catholic  halberd, 
refused,  whereon  the  duke  drew  his  pistol  and  laugh- 
ingly shot  him  through  the  chest.  The  Protestant  fell, 
and  his  horse  raced  off  in  the  direction  taken  by  the 
retreating  cavalry.  The  women  and  other  spectators 
of  this  dastardly  act  at  once  set  up  a  great  cheering, 
as  though  an  heroic  deed  had  been  performed,  and 
Guise  dashed  back  to  camp  still  laughing  heartily  at 
his  brave  jest. 

After  the  retreat  of  the  Protestants,  Montpensier, 
at  the  suggestion  of  Chabanes,  had  set  his  men  to 
searching  for  the  wounded  among  the  bodies  that 
bestrewed  the  field.  Both  of  them  had  witnessed 
Guise's  cowardly  act,  and,  by  a  common  impulse, 
when  the  latter  had  ridden  back  to  camp,  they 
spurred  their  horses  in  the  direction  of  the  fallen 
Huguenot. 

Anger  at  the  duke's  brutality  sent  the  hot  blood 
racing  through  the  count's  veins  as  he  reached  the 
wounded  man  first,  and,  leaping  from  his  horse,  knelt 
beside  the  prostrate  form,  placing  his  head  on  the 
Huguenot's  breast  in  order  to  ascertain  if  his  heart 
still  beat.  The  Huguenot,  who  was  mortally  wounded 
but  not  unconscious,  at  the  sound  of  approaching 
hoofs  had  thought  that  his  assailant  was  returning  to 
complete  his  act  of  cowardice.  He  had  managed  to 
take  the  pistol  from  his  belt  and,  while  Chabanes 


2l6  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

knelt  over  him,  he  carefully  placed  the  weapon  to 
the  back  of  the  latter's  head  and  fired. 

Montpensier  had  followed  close  on  the  heels  of  the 
count.  He  saw  the  latter  kneel  and  place  his  head 
on  the  wounded  man's  breast.  As  he  dismounted 
from  his  horse,  his  sword  yet  unsheathed,  he  per- 
ceived the  gleam  of  steel  in  the  Huguenot's  hand, 
and  saw  him  slowly  raise  the  pistol  to  the  count's 
head.  An  instant  before  the  man  could  pull  the 
trigger  the  prince's  sword  described  an  arc  and 
fell  with  terrific  force  across  the  Huguenot's  wrist, 
severing  his  hand  and  burying  itself  deep  in  his 
throat,  at  the  very  moment  the  weapon  was  dis- 
charged. 

Chabanes  fell  heavily  on  his  side.  Montpensier, 
beside  himself  with  grief  and  expecting  to  find 
his  friend's  skull  shattered  by  the  ball,  knelt  ten- 
derly beside  him.  The  count's  face  was  very  white, 
and  a  tiny  stream  of  blood  trickled  out  of  his  hair 
down  his  forehead.  He  was  in  reality  only  stunned, 
as  the  shot  from  the  Huguenot's  pistol  had  been 
diverted  by  the  prince's  sword,  so  that  it  merely 
inflicted  a  small  scalp  wound.  The  shock  of  the 
detonation  had  rendered  him  unconscious.  A  man, 
who  was  quickly  followed  by  a  score  of  others,  dashed 
up  to  the  group. 

"  Is  he  dead?  "  he  cried,  in  accents  of  sincere  grief. 

"  Thank  God,  no !  "  replied  Montpensier,  fervently. 
"  He  is  only  stunned." 

The  man,  who  was  Francois,  the  count's  valet, 
without  a  word  knelt  beside  his  master,  and,  prying 
open  the  latter's  jaws,  poured  from  a  flask  a  gener- 


A    CAMP  AND  AN  INCIDENT  21? 

ous  draught  of  eau  de  vie  down  the  unconscious 
man's  throat.  The  count  speedily  revived  and, 
although  still  extremely  dizzy,  was  able  to  mount 
his  horse  and  ride  back  to  the  camp  amid  the  solici- 
tous attentions  of  those  that  had  come  out  to  meet 
him.  Victoire  was  one  of  the  first  to  felicitate  him 
on  his  escape  from  death,  tears  of  joy  streaming 
down  her  cheeks,  which  glowed  with  intense  excite- 
ment. The  king,  who  had  also  been  a  witness  of  the 
entire  incident,  sent  the  count  his  surgeon,  Ambroise 
Pare",  with  congratulations. 

"You  are  quits  with  M.  le  Prince  now,"  said  the 
king,  when  next  he  saw  Chabanes. 

"  Your  patient  is  doing  well,  is  he  not,  Monsieur?" 
asked  Montpensier  of  Ambroise  Pare,  as  the  latter 
arose  and  prepared  to  return  to  his  tent. 

"  It  is  a  mere  scratch,"  replied  the  latter,  pleasantly, 
"  it  will  have  healed  within  the  week." 

That  evening  Victoire  visited  Chabanes,  who  lay 
on  his  cot  in  her  husband's  tent.  Montpensier  was 
away  conversing  with  Tavannes,  and  Francois,  who 
had  been  staying  with  the  count,  left  soon  after  the 
prince's  return.  The  latter,  recalling  some  point  he 
had  overlooked  in  his  discussion  with  the  Marechal, 
left  Victoire  and  the  count  alone  and  returned  to 
Tavannes. 

The  princess,  who  was  still  weak  and  nervous  as  a 
result  of  her  emotion  of  the  evening,  took  advantage 
of  the  opportunity  to  tell  Chabanes  the  fright  he  had 
caused  her. 

"It  was  babyish  in  me  to  cry,  Raoul,  was  it  not? 
But  I  could  not  help  it.  The  pistol  was  fired  at 


21 8  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

your  head,  and  you  fell  exactly  as  though  you  had 
been  shot ;  I  thought  you  were  dead.  Oh,  Raoul !  " 
she  cried,  the  tears  again  beginning  to  flow  down  her 
flushed  cheeks,  as  she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands, 
"  please  take  care  of  yourself.  You  are  always  ready 
to  risk  your  life  recklessly.  I  was  half-mad  to-day ! 
What  would  I  do  without  you?  I  thought.  Please 
be  careful." 

There  were  tears  of  joy  in  Chabanes'  eyes  as  he 
gently  placed  his  hand  on  her  head.  "Your  interest 
in  me,  Victoire,"  he  said,  softly,  "  is  my  safeguard. 
Now  dry  your  tears  and,  if  you  are  truly  glad  that 
the  Huguenot's  bullet  did  not  put  an  end  to  me, 
thank  the  man  that  saved  my  life.  I  think  I  hear 
him  coming  now." 

The  Due  de  Guise  had  shared  in  the  general  sur- 
prise at  the  king's  decision  to  direct  the  siege  of  the 
town,  realizing  with  joy  that  the  circumstance  was 
ominous  for  Anjou,  the  king's  jealousy  of  whom 
seemed  very  apparent.  The  coming  of  Victoire  was 
another  event  for  which  he  was  wholly  unprepared. 
Urged  by  his  uncle,  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  he  had 
of  late  more  firmly  resolved  to  press  his  suit  with 
Madame,  the  king's  sister,  and  the  presence  of  the 
princess  made  the  fulfilment  of  this  resolve  most 
difficult.  He  had  spent  his  boyhood  with  Marguerite 
de  Valois,  and  the  two  had  always  been  more  like 
brother  and  sister  than  Anjou  and  Madame  had  ever 
been.  Her  great  beauty  and  wit  did  not  influence 
him  as  did  the  charms  and  fascination  of  Victoire, 
but  she  was  a  prize  for  which,  if  necessary,  he  would 
have  made  any  sacrifice.  He  resolved  to  devote 


A    CAMP  AND  AN  INCIDENT 

himself  to  both  women,  trusting  to  his  adroitness  to 
arouse  neither  the  jealousy  of  the  one  nor  the  sus- 
picions of  the  other. 

However,  Marguerite  de  Valois  could  not  fail  to 
notice  the  strong  attraction  that  Victoire  exerted 
over  the  duke,  for  whom  Madame  already  had  a  great 
predilection.  Often  in  her  childhood's  most  secret 
reveries  she  had  pictured  herself  sharing  with  this 
handsome  and  majestic  youth  the  great  throne  of 
France ;  and  to  this  end  she  had  by  every  possible 
means  fostered  the  rivalry  and  hatred  that  daily  aug- 
mented between  her  brother,  Anjou,  and  Guise.  She 
threw  every  possible  incentive  in  the  path  of  Henri 
de  Lorraine,  at  the  same  time  exerting  all  her  arts  to 
fascinate  him.  It  was  this  same  endeavor,  perhaps, 
that,  aside  from  assuring  him  of  Madame's  favor,  made 
Guise,  born  hunter  of  men  and  women  that  he  was, 
long  more  eagerly  for  the  pleasures  of  pursuit  which 
he  experienced  in  wooing  Mme.  de  Montpensier. 

Chabanes  noticed  much  sooner  than  did  Montpen- 
sier that  Guise  was  daily  falling  beneath  the  old  spell 
which  the  personality  of  Victoire  had  always  exercised 
over  him.  Victoire  herself  was  not  unaware  of 
Guise's  warmth  toward  her,  but  she  naively  explained 
it  to  herself  as  a  fuller  reawakening  of  an  old  time 
friendship.  The  coming  marriage  of  Claude  de  Lor- 
raine, Guise's  sister,  to  the  Due  de  Montpensier, 
naturally  formed  a  topic  of  great  mutual  interest  to 
Guise  and  Victoire,  and  they  laughingly  began  to 
call  each  other  "  Cousin "  on  all  occasions.  The 
Prince  de  Montpensier  was  also  compelled  by  the 
commonest  rules  of  propriety  to  stifle,  as  far  as  pos- 


22O  A  PAR  FIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

sible,  his  hatred  for  Guise  in  an  occasional  endeavor 
to  converse  conventionally  with  the  latter  on  the  ap- 
proaching alliance  of  their  respective  houses.  This 
he  did  with  no  good  grace,  as  may  be  readily  imag- 
ined. After  the  incident  of  the  wounded  Huguenot 
both  he  and  the  count  scrupulously  avoided  Guise, 
although  the  latter  civilly  sent  Chabanes  his  felicita- 
tions, and  his  regrets  that  he  should  have  been  the 
indirect  cause  of  the  affair. 

On  the  night  the  count  was  wounded,  Victoire 
stood  beside  Anjou  on  the  high  ground  that  over- 
looked the  scene  of  the  conflict.  Monsieur  had  been 
most  flatteringly  attentive  to  her  since  her  arrival  at 
Saint-Jean  d'Angely.  When  Guise  rode  back  to 
camp  after  shooting  the  Huguenot,  and  was  received 
with  the  cheers  of  all,  she  misconstrued  his  action 
as  one  of  heroism,  thinking  that  the  Huguenot  had 
attacked  him,  and  that  he  had  acted  wholly  in  self- 
defence.  This  innocent  belief  she  later  imparted 
to  the  count,  who,  happy  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
anxiety  on  his  behalf  that  she  had  betrayed  when 
he  was  apparently  dead,  behaved  with  his  usual  for- 
bearance in  speaking  ill  of  the  absent,  and  did 
not  destroy  her  illusion  by  correcting  her  impression 
of  Guise's  act.  Guise  himself,  when  she  mentioned 
it  to  him,  laughed  it  off  as  a  matter  of  slight  import, 
thus  heightening  her  sense  of  his  bravery.  With  the 
prince  she  did  not  discuss  the  affair,  and,  as  every 
one  else  at  camp  looked  on  the  duke's  act  as  a  huge 
jest,  she  did  not  learn  the  truth  of  it. 

Two  days  after  the  incident  a  heavy  rain  set  in  and 
the  weather  turned  unusually  cold.  The  Princesse 


A    CAMP  AND  AN  INCIDENT  221 

de  Montpensier,  unaccustomed  to  such  rigors,  was 
seized  with  a  fever,  and  it  was  thought  best  by  both 
the  prince  and  Chabanes  to  remove  her  at  once  to 
Champigny.  Thither  they  both  accompanied  her,  as 
did  Antoinette  de  Lerac.  Her  illness  was  tolerably 
severe,  lasting  more  than  a  fortnight,  and  it  appeared 
necessary  for  her  to  remain  at  Champigny  an  equal 
length  of  time  in  order  to  regain  her  strength.  At 
the  end  of  the  first  two  weeks  the  prince  was  com- 
pelled to  return  to  Saint-Jean  d'Angely  and  resume 
his  share  in  the  military  operations  at  that  place. 
Victoire  being  well  on  the  road  to  health  again,  he 
was  content  to  leave  her  in  the  care  of  Chabanes,  who 
watched  over  her  as  tenderly  as  a  mother  would  have 
guarded  her  first-born. 

December  second  the  town  of  Saint-Jean  d'Angely 
finally  capitulated,  the  royal  army  gaining,  as  Mont- 
pensier had  predicted,  little  advantage  from  the  sur- 
render. The  court  repaired  to  Angers  and,  shortly 
after,  to  Paris,  where  the  count,  Montpensier,  and 
Victoire,  who  was  completely  restored  to  health, 
joined  it. 


XX 

A  TRAITOR  AND  AN  EXPEDIENT 

ONE  day  shortly  after  the  return  of  the  court  to 
Paris  the  Due  d'Anjou  was  walking  with  his 
sister  Marguerite  in  a  tennis  court  at  the  Louvre, 
discussing  affairs  of  state,  as  had  been  their  wont  since 
the  days  of  Jarnac.  Shortly  after  that  battle  the  two 
had  concluded  a  pact  of  friendship  and  allegiance  in 
all  ambitious  undertakings.  The  distrust  that  had 
formerly  inspired  both  parties  to  this  agreement  was 
now,  in  some  measure,  overcome,  particularly  in  the 
case  of  Anjou,  who  believed  himself  master  of  his 
sister's  ambitions  and  assistance.  As  for  Madame, 
she  was  too  astute  not  to  penetrate  quickly  the 
motives  of  her  self-centred  brother. 

"What  think  you,  Marguerite,"  Anjou  inquired, 
anxiously,  "  of  the  jealousy  the  king  manifests  on  all 
occasions  when  reference  is  made  to  my  conduct  in 
the  engagements  of  the  war?" 

"  Peste  !  "  replied  Madame,  disparagingly,  "  it  is  a 
mere  whim  that  will  quickly  pass." 

None  knew  better  than  she  the  frenzied  hatred 
with  which  Charles  IX.  regarded  his  brother.  Anjou 
was  the  favorite  son  of  Catherine  de  Medicis,  whose 
desire  to  see  the  son  she  loved  occupying  the  throne 


A    TKAITOR  AND  AN  EXPEDIENT  223 

of  France  was  so  ardent  that  the  king  ever  felt  him- 
self in  danger  of  being  deposed,  or  even  assassinated. 

"  But  he  persistently  treats  me  with  utter  disregard, 
and  it  was  but  yesterday  that  he  flew  into  a  violent 
passion  with  the  queen,  our  mother,  at  the  mere 
mention  of  my  name.  You  cannot  deny,  Marguerite, 
that  we  are  in  desperate  straits  -and  must  devise  some 
speedy  means  of  bettering  our  position." 

The  words  were  spoken  with  such  deep  signifi- 
cance of  tone  that  Madame  was  constrained  to  look 
her  brother  squarely  in  the  eye,  if  possible  to  dis- 
cover his  meaning. 

"  And  what  plan  have  you  to  propose,  Henri  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  No  definite  plan.  You  and  I  have  talked  before 
of  the  eventuality  of  my  reigning  in  France.  You 
know  that  the  queen,  our  mother,  would  not  be 
averse  to  seeing  me  on  the  throne  instead  of  this 
madman  Charles." 

The  daring  of  these  words  at  first  filled  Madame 
with  horror.  She  stared  at  her  brother  as  though  she 
did  not  believe  her  senses.  "  So  that  is  your  plan !  " 
she  thought.  "You  would  hasten  this  eventuality  of 
your  reign  in  France,  and  ask  me  to  assist  you. 
Henri,"  she  said,  aloud,  "are  you  aware  that  there 
can  be  but  one  king  in  France?  Do  you  know  that 
the  throne  never  changes  occupants  except  when 
one  dies  and  the  next  of  kin  succeeds  him?" 

"That  is  precisely  of  what  I  was  thinking  a  moment 
ago,"  replied  Anjou,  imperturbably. 

"  And  so  you  would  have  me  join  you  in  fratricide, 
my  brother?" 


224  A   PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

"  Fratricide  is  an  ugly  word.  Let  us  say  I  seek 
your  assistance  in  —  giving  France  a  beneficial  change 
of  rulers." 

"  The  benefit  being  derived  from  your  occupancy 
of  the  throne?"  inquired  Marguerite,  ironically. 

"  With  you  always  as  my  right  hand,  sister,"  replied 
Monsieur,  with  great  seriousness. 

"  But  do  you  not  think  your  plan  a  trifle  audacious  ?  " 
continued  Madame.  Mentally  she  added,  "  Mine  is 
similar  to  yours  only  in  the  fact  that  it  is  an  Henri 
that  both  of  us  desire  to  make  King  of  France." 

"  We  are  in  a  desperate  plight,  Marguerite,  and  must 
take  desperate  chances,  if  we  hope  to  better  ourselves." 

"  Does  the  queen-mother  favor  such  a  step  ?  " 

"Naturally,  I  have  not  suggested  it  to  her.  But 
you  know  well  enough,  Marguerite,  that  once  we 
carry  it  into  effect  she  will  not  raise  serious  objections 
to  its  results." 

"And  Alengon?" 

"  Is  weak,  capricious,  distrustful,  as  you  also  know. 
I  dare  trust  him  with  nothing.  He  is  treachery 
incarnate." 

"  There  I  believe  you  are  right,"  assented  Madame, 
with  a  sigh.  "  But,  brother,  is  there  no  other  way  for 
us  out  of  our  difficulty?"  she  asked,  feigning  sym- 
pathy with  his  plans. 

"  I  can  think  of  no  other.  Charles  is  utterly  un- 
reasonable and  I  believe  him  insane,"  replied  Anjou, 
in  a  low  tone. 

"  And  according  to  your  plan,  are  we  two  going  to 
accomplish   the   affair  single  —  or  rather,  double  — 
handed?" 


A    TRAITOR  AND  AN  EXPEDIENT  22$ 

"  I  have  found  a  fellow  that  will  serve  our  purpose 
admirably.  Gaston  Letroux  he  is  called,  and  a  more 
skilful  assassin  never  cut  a  throat.  Afterwards,  it 
were  a  sufficiently  easy  matter  to  bring  him  to  the 
Louvre,  and  —  well,  there  are  oubliettes,  you  know." 

"  And  when  is  this  Gaston  Letroux  to  find  an 
opportunity  for  making  away  with  the  King  of 
France?"  inquired  Madame,  still  endeavoring  to 
draw  the  entire  plot  from  Anjou. 

"  That  is  simply  enough  arranged.  The  King  fre- 
quently goes  at  night  to  the  house  of  his  mistress, 
the  bourgeoise  girl,  Marie  Touchet,  in  the  Rue  des 
Barres.  Often  he  is  accompanied  by  not  more  than 
two  or  three  gentlemen.  These  remain  in  the  street 
while  the  king  enters  the  house.  A  half-dozen 
picked  swordsmen  might  easily  fall  on  these  guards 
and  run  them  through.  Then  when  the  king  emerges 
from  the  house  he  will  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  first 
cut-throat  that  steals  up  behind  him." 

The  coolness  with  which  Anjou  related  the  details 
of  this  cold-blooded  plot  against  his  brother's  life 
staggered  Marguerite.  He  spoke  of  this  dastardly 
assassination  as  he  might  have  mentioned  a  plan  for 
the  strangling  of  a  vicious  dog.  She  retained  her 
composure,  however,  sufficiently  to  question  him  with 
pretended  sympathy,  in  the  hope  of  learning  what 
further  plans  he  might  have  made. 

"  These  five  picked  swordsmen  of  whom  you 
speak,"  she  asked ;  "  where  are  they  to  be  secured, 
and  how  are  they  to  be  kept  from  betraying  you  — 
us,  I  mean,"  she  added,  hastily,  seeing  Anjou  regard 
her  with  surprise. 


226  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  That  is  also  a  simple  matter,"  he  replied,  reas- 
sured by  her  interest ;  "  indeed,  that  part  of  the  plan 
has  already  been  tested.  I  secured  five  men  once 
before,  instructing  them,  the  first  time  they  found  two 
or  three  gentlemen  patrolling  the  Rue  des  Barres,  to 
fall  on  them  and  run  them  through.  The  plan  would 
have  succeeded,  I  later  learned,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  chance  appearance  on  the  scene  of  a  third  gentle- 
man, who  fought  so  desperately  that  my  little  troop 
was  put  to  flight.  As  it  was,  none  of  these  vagabonds 
had  the  slightest  idea  that  the  King  of  France  was  in- 
side the  little  house  before  which  they  fought." 

"  So  these  same  vagabonds  could  again  be  hired  to 
set  on  the  gentlemen  that  accompany  the  king  to  the 
Rue  des  Barres,  and,  provided  no  third  or  fourth 
gentleman  puts  in  his  appearance  at  the  wrong  time, 
the  gentlemen  of  the  king  will  be  disposed  of  and  the 
king  himself  will  be  at  the  mercy  of  Gaston  Letroux, 
than  whom  no  more  skilful  assassin  ever  cut  a  throat, 
and  who  will  presently  depart  this  life  in  an  oubliette 
of  the  Louvre  ?  " 

"  Exactly." 

"  But  this  mysterious  individual  that  once  succeeded 
in  putting  to  flight  your  five  vagabonds  — 

"  And  killing  one  of  them,"  added  Anjou,  compla- 
cently. 

"  And  killing  one  of  them,"  repeated  Madame ;  "  is 
there  any  reason  why  he  should  not  turn  up  at  the 
wrong  moment  on  another  occasion?  " 

"  There  is  a  very  excellent  reason  for  his  not  re- 
peating his  act  of  the  previous  occasion,"  replied 
Anjou,  quietly. 


IT   WAS   EVIDENT  THAT   THE   PLANS   HAD   BEEN   CAREFULLY   LAID 


A   TRAITOR  AND  AN  EXPEDIENT  22 / 

Marguerite  reflected  momentarily.  It  was  evident 
that  the  plans  of  Monsieur  had  been  carefully  laid  and 
that  no  detail  had  been  overlooked.  "  And  when  will 
occur  the  opportunity  for  the  consummation  of  this 
—  this  affair?" 

"  To-night." 

"  To-night !  " 

"  To-night." 

"  Mon  Dieii  ! "  exclaimed  Marguerite,  to  herself, 
"  what  a  narrow  escape  the  king,  my  brother,  has 
had !  " 

The  Due  d'  Anjou  was  watching  her  face  with  great 
intentness,  and  she  made  a  brave  effort  to  appear 
in  complete  sympathy  with  his  project.  "  But  how 
do  you  know,"  she  asked,  resolved  to  make  one  more 
effort  to  find  a  flaw  in  his  plot,  "  that  this  stranger  of 
whom  we  were  just  speaking  will  not  happen  on 
the  scene  at  the  inopportune  moment  and  thwart 
everything?" 

"  Because  he  will  be  one  of  the  gentlemen  that 
accompany  the  king." 

"  And  his  name  is  —  ?  " 

"  Raoul  de  la  Tour  d'lvoire,  Comte  de  Chabanes." 

At  this  moment  the  Due  d'  Alengon  approached. 
Seeing  him  near  them  Anjou  whispered  to  his  sister, 
"  Are  you  satisfied?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  nervously.  She  was  longing 
for  an  opportunity  to  inform  the  king,  the  Comte 
de  Chabanes,  any  one,  of  her  brother's  dastardly 
project. 

Anjou  noticed  her  agitation,  at  first  ascribing  it  to 
the  natural  excitement  of  the  contemplated  assassina- 


228  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

tion.      "  In  that  case,"  said  he,  "  you  need  not  retire 
to-night." 

"  The  queen-mother  expects  you,  Margot,"  said 
Alenc_on,  advancing,  and  interrupting  this  conversation 
between  the  two  persons  in  the  world  whom  he  most 
detested  seeing  together. 

Marguerite  seized  the  opportunity  to  leave,  and 
hastened  at  once  to  the  cabinet  of  Catherine  de 
Medicis.  An  instant  after  she  had  left,  a  suspicion 
crossed  the  mind  of  Monsieur.  "  What  if  she  were 
to  betray  me !  "  he  thought,  at  once  resolving  to  pre- 
vent any  such  occurrence. 

In  the  cabinet  of  the  queen-mother  Marguerite 
found  several  groups  of  court  ladies  and  gentlemen 
conversing.  She  at  once  caught  sight  of  Guise  and 
Mme.  de  Montpensier,  who  were  earnestly  conversing 
in  a  corner  of  the  room,  and  her  heart  leaped  with 
jealousy.  The  queen-mother  was  talking  with  the 
Cardinal  de  Lorraine.  Madame  looked  first  of  all  for 
the  king,  and,  failing  to  find  him,  cast  a  searching 
glance  about  the  chamber  for  the  distinguished  feat- 
ures of  the  Comte  de  Chabanes.  He  also  was  absent. 
She  decided  to  throw  herself  on  the  mercy  of  the 
queen-mother,  and  as  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine 
was  just  taking  his  leave  of  Catherine,  Madame 
approached  her  mother  asking  her  for  a  moment's 
private  conversation. 

"Is  it  something  of  importance,  Margot?"  asked 
Catherine.  "  If  not,  I  would  rather  it  be  deferred  for  a 
time,  as  I  am  expecting  the  Portuguese  ambassadors." 

"  Madame,  I  implore  you,"  pleaded  Marguerite ; 
"  it  is  a  matter  of  vital  importance  to  us  all !  " 


A    TKAITOR  AND  AN  EXPEDIENT  22$ 

"In  which  case  it  should  be  shared  with  us  all," 
said  Anjou,  who,  unperceived  by  Madame,  had 
entered  the  room  and  come  up  behind  her. 

Marguerite  turned  to  him  defiantly,  her  eyes  flash- 
ing and  her  cheeks  glowing  with  disappointment. 
Anjou  returned  her  gaze  with  sinister  intensity. 
Neither  spoke,  but  thenceforward  there  existed  be- 
tween them  the  most  violent  hatred;  from  that 
moment  dated  an  unceasing  conflict  that  death 
alone  ended. 

Throughout  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon  and 
evening  Anjou  followed  Marguerite  as  a  jailer  would 
a  prisoner  in  his  charge.  Nothing  could  surpass  the 
vigilance  with  which  he  surrounded  her.  A  dozen 
times  she  attempted  to  elude  him  and  gain  an  audi- 
ence with  the  king  or  with  some  one  that  would  carry 
a  message  to  his  Majesty.  Each  time  he  was  just 
behind  her  ready  to  thwart  her  at  the  moment  when 
success  seemed  sure.  Once  she  wrote  a  few  words  on 
the  hem  of  her  handkerchief  and  slipped  it  to  a  page, 
telling  him  to  deliver  it  at  once  to  the  king.  The 
page  had  not  gone  twenty  paces  when  Monsieur 
barred  his  way,  relieved  him  of  the  handkerchief,  and 
a  minute  later  came  out  of  the  queen-mother's  cabinet 
just  as  Madame,  thinking  she  had  at  last  escaped 
him,  was  about  to  enter. 

Eight  o'clock  struck,  and  Marguerite,  who  had 
traversed  the  palace  many  times  in  the  last  four  hours, 
was  ready  to  faint  with  exhaustion  and  fright.  Doubt- 
less the  king  was  even  now  on  his  way  to  the  Rue  des 
Barres,  accompanied  by  the  Comte  de  Chabanes.  In 
half  an  hour  he  would  be  inside  the  house  of  Marie 


230  A   PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

Touchet,  the  count  and  whoever  might  be  his  com- 
panion would  have  been  killed,  and  the  assassin 
would  be  lurking  outside  in  the  shadows.  In  another 
half-hour  the  king  would  emerge,  the  assassin  would 
creep  up  behind  him,  the  pistol  would  be  fired  or  the 
knife  driven  home,  and  the  Due  d'Anjou,  now  her 
bitterest  enemy,  would  be  king  of  France.  All  this 
time  she  was  impotent,  helpless.  No  matter  what  ruse 
she  attempted,  Anjou,  the  murderer,  was  always  there 
to  thwart  her  plan  and  silently  ridicule  her  ineffectual 
efforts.  He  anticipated  her  every  move  and  played 
with  her  as  a  cat  would  play  with  an  exhausted  mouse. 

In  despair  she  turned  to  the  first  door  she  saw; 
she  entered  and  bolted  it.  Face  to  face  with  her  stood 
the  Princesse  de  Montpensier.  Marguerite  forgot  her 
hatred  for  her  rival  in  the  anguish  of  the  moment. 
Weeping  bitterly  she  flung  herself  on  her  knees  before 
the  astounded  princess.  Victoire  gently  raised  the 
prostrate  woman  from  the  floor  and  begged  her  to  be 
seated. 

"  My  heart  bleeds,  Madame,"  said  Victoire,  in  a 
tone  of  such  indubitable  sympathy  that  Marguerite 
started  as  though  she  had  suddenly  been  acquainted 
with  an  entirely  new  experience,  —  "  My  heart  bleeds 
to  see  you  so  unhappy.  I  trust  that  it  may  be  in  my 
humble  power  to  assuage  your  grief." 

Marguerite  ceased  crying  and  dried  her  eyes. 
What  if  this  woman  could  assist  her  in  her  extremity  ? 

But  she  dared  not  tell  her  that  the  Due  d'Anjou 
was  plotting  against  her  brother's  life  —  that  he  was 
about  to  become  a  regicide.  She  must  think  — 
think  quickly,  devise  a  plan  that  the  princess  might 


A    TRAITOR  AND  AN  EXPEDIENT  231 

carry  out  without  arousing  either  her  own  suspicions 
or  those  of  Anjou. 

Suddenly  she  brightened  wonderfully;  the  plan 
was  formed.  The  Princesse  de  Montpensier  was 
greatly  attached  to  the  Comte  de  Chabanes.  She 
would  doubtless  risk  much  to  save  his  life.  More- 
over, she,  of  all  women,  would  be  most  likely  to  elude 
Anjou  (who  Madame  felt  sure  had  not  seen  her 
enter  the  apartments  of  the  princess),  for  he  had  on 
all  occasions  evinced  the  deepest  attachment  for 
her  and  protested  the  completest  servility. 

"Listen,  Madame,"  she  said,  eagerly;  "one  you 
love  much  is  in  great  danger.  You  must  go  to  him 
at  once.  Leave  the  Louvre  immediately  and  let  no 
one  stop  you.  Just  across  the  drawbridge  you  will 
find  my  litter,  which  I  ordered  several  hours  ago  but 
which  I  have  been  unable  to  use.  Tell  the  bearers  to 
take  you  at  once  to  the  Rue  des  Barres.  There  you 
will  find  two  or  three  gentlemen,  one  of  whom  you 
know.  If  you  arrive  in  time  —  and  Heaven  grant 
you  may!  — you  will  find  them  patrolling  the  street. 
If  you  are  too  late  they  will  be  dead.  If  the  former  is 
the  case  tell  them  Marguerite  de  Valois  warns  them 
of  great  and  impending  danger ;  and  if  it  is  the  latter, 
go  yourself  to  the  house  that  stands  in  the  little  high- 
walled  garden,  knock  until  your  knuckles  bleed,  but 
get  admitted,  and  tell  those  within  not  to  stir  from  the 
place  all  night  as  they  value  their  lives." 

Victoire  heard  Madame  with  wonder  that  ended  in 
excitement.  "  But  tell  me,  first  of  all,"  she  cried,  as 
agitated  as  Marguerite  herself,  "  who  is  this  gentle- 
man that  I  know  and  whose  life  is  in  danger?  " 


232  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KIVIGHT 

"  The  Comte  de  Chabanes." 

"  I  will  go  instantly,"  replied  Victoire,  without 
hesitation.  "  Come,  Anne,"  she  added,  nervously,  to 
the  maid,  who  had  just  entered  from  an  inner 
chamber ;  "  you  are  no  greater  coward  than  I." 


XXI 

A  CATASTROPHE  AND  A  FRUSTRATION 

THE  princess  and  her  maid  threw  long  black 
cloaks  over  their  shoulders ;  Victoire  in  passing 
a  table  seized  a  tiny  jewelled  dagger,  and  they  left  the 
room,  Marguerite  bolting  the  door  on  the  inside  after 
them.  They  had  scarely  gone  twenty  paces  when 
they  saw  the  Due  d'Anjou  approaching. 

"  Hide  your  face  in  your  cloak,  Antoinette,"  whis- 
pered the  princess,  and  both  women  slipped  past  the 
duke  without  his  recognizing  them. 

"  Some  midnight  rendezvous,"  he  thought,  satisfied 
that  neither  was  his  sister.  . 

The  two  women  passed  out  of  the  Louvre  and  across 
the  drawbridge  without  finding  the  slightest  trace  of 
Marguerite's  litter.  The  bearers,  after  having  waited 
in  the  cold  for  more  than  four  hours,  had  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  they  were  not  wanted  after  all,  and 
had  left. 

"Do  you  know  the  street,  Antoinette ?"  inquired 
Victoire,  anxiously. 

"  I  have  seen  it,"  replied  the  maid,  "  but  I  am  not 
sure  I  can  find  it  again." 

"  But  we  must  find  it,  Anne." 

The  two  women,  hand  in  hand,  rushed  off  down  the 
first  street  they  came  to,  turning  several  times  and 


234  A  PARFIT  GENTIL   KNIGHT 

threading,  apparently  without  purpose,  the  intricacies 
of  the  Parisian  map.  After  five  minutes  of  breathless 
running  they  came  to  a  halt. 

"  This  should  be  it,"  said  Antoinette,  when  she 
could  catch  her  breath. 

Victoire  burst  into  tears.  She  had  just  recognized 
the  locality  as  being  in  a  direction  precisely  opposite 
the  one  they  required.  To  add  to  her  discomfiture, 
two  men  were  seen  stealthily  slinking  toward  them 
in  the  shadow  of  a  neighboring  building. 

"  Come,  Antoinette,"  the  princess  cried,  terror- 
stricken,  "  we  must  fly  in  the  opposite  direction  or 
we  shall  fall  into  these  ruffians'  hands." 

They  turned  instantly,  keeping  to  the  shadows,  and 
did  not  cease  running  until  they  were  almost  exhausted. 
Luckily  they  had  now  arrived  at  the  entrance  to  the 
Rue  des  Barres.  When  they  discovered  this  they  ran 
up  the  narrow  street  at  full  speed. 

In  front  of  the  house  of  Marie  Touchet  two  men 
were  lying  in  a  pool  of  blood.  Instinctively  Victoire 
passed  by  the  first  one  without  looking  at  his  face, 
and  with  a  cry  of  anguish  knelt  beside  the  second 
man.  He  lay  face  downward,  and  when  with  difficulty 
she  turned  him  on  his  back  and  lifted  his  head, 
blood  gushed  from  his  mouth  and  nostrils. 

"  Bring  a  light,  quick !  "  she  commanded  Antoi- 
nette, hoarsely. 

The  maid  ran  to  a  neighboring  corner,  tore  a 
half-consumed  torch  from  its  socket  in  the  wall,  and, 
returning  with  it,  held  it  over  the  prostrate  form  be- 
side which  the  princess  knelt. 

Victoire  and  Antoinette  simultaneously  uttered  a 


A    CATASTROPHE  AND  A  FRUSTRATION       235 

shriek.  It  was  the  Comte  de  Chabanes  that  lay 
before  them,  weltering  in  his  own  blood.  Victoire, 
pressing  her  hand  to  her  forehead,  staggered  back- 
ward to  the  threshold  of  Marie  Touchet's  gate  and 
fell  on  the  pavement  unconscious.  Antoinette  burst 
into  hysterical  tears,  holding  the  bleeding  head  of 
the  count  in  her  arms  as  a  child  would  hold  a 
doll. 

Presently  Antoinette  began  to  recover  her  wits. 
She  placed  her  hand  over  Chabanes'  heart,  and  fail- 
ing to  distinguish  even  the  tiniest  throb,  she  substi- 
tuted her  ear  for  her  hand.  In  doing  this  her  face 
became  smeared  with  blood,  but  she  paid  no  attention 
to  the  fact. 

She  thought  she  detected  a  faint  sound,  and  her 
own  heart  began  to  beat  wildly.  "  He  lives,"  she 
said,  eagerly,  to  herself  and  aloud. 

Then  she  sprang  to  her  feet  and  ran  to  the  door- 
way where  Victoire  lay  unconscious.  As  she  was 
about  to  raise  the  head  of  her  mistress  from  the 
pavement,  the  gate  before  her  opened  and  a  man 
appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"  Chabanes  !  Plontard  !  "  he  called,  in  an  authori- 
tative tone.  He  was  dazzled  by  the  torch  Antoinette 
held  and  did  not  see  the  two  women  at  his  feet. 

"  The  king !  "  exclaimed  Antoinette,  dropping  to 
her  knees  in  terror. 

A  man  crawled  out  of  a  neighboring  shadow  and 
noiselessly  tiptoed  off  down  the  street.  It  was  Gas- 
ton  Letroux.  "  So  it  was  the  king  they  wanted  me 
to  kill !  "  he  muttered  to  himself.  "  I  should  have 
had  a  hard  time  doing  penance  for  that  sin." 


236  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Charles  IX.  now  perceived  the  two  women  on  the 
pavement  before  him. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this  disorder,  my  good 
woman  ?  "  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  annoyance. 

The  maid's  tongue  clove  to  the  roof  of  her  mouth. 
She  made  a  strenuous  effort  to  speak,  but  the  words 
would  not  pronounce  themselves. 

"  Diable! "  said  the  king  to  himself,  "  all  these 
persons  are  either  dead  or  dumb." 

He  reached  down  and  took  the  torch  from  the 
maid's  nerveless  grasp.  Then  he  held  its  blaze  over 
Victoire.  "  Nom  de  Dieu  ! "  he  exclaimed ;  "  it  is 
Mme.  de  Montpensier !  " 

Antoinette  found  her  voice. 

"  Your  Majesty,"  she  stammered,  feebly,  "  Madame 
has  just  fainted.  They  have  murdered  the  Comte  de 
Chabanes." 

The  king  followed  the  direction  of  her  index  finger 
with  his  eyes  till  he  saw  the  prostrate  forms  of  his 
gentlemen.  Beyond  them  at  a  little  distance  lay 
four  other  bodies  that  the  maid  had  not  noticed 
before.  They  were  corpses  of  cut-throats  whom  the 
count  and  his  companion  —  who  was  the  Baron  de 
Plontard  —  had  killed. 

"  A  thousand  devils !  "  cried  the  king,  "  but  this 
has  been  pretty  work." 

At  that  moment  the  tramp  of  feet  was  heard  in  the 
Rue  Gamier  sur  1'Eau.  The  king,  raising  his  voice, 
cried,  "  Ho,  there,  gentlemen  of  the  Watch !  Help  ! 
Help !  " 

Instantly  the  Watch  came  running  down  the  street 
at  full  speed. 


A   CATASTROPHE  AND  A  FRUSTRATION       237 

"  The  king !  "  exclaimed  their  captain,  dropping 
on  one  knee. 

"  M.  le  Capitaine,"  said  the  king,  dryly,  "  you  will 
despatch  two  of  your  men  to  the  Louvre  for  a  litter 
and  a  surgeon.  The  others  will  help  me  to  carry  this 
lady  and  these  two  gentlemen  into  this  garden." 

The  men  of  the  Watch  at  once  obeyed.  The  king 
entered  the  house  and  immediately  reappeared,  fol- 
lowed by  Marie  Touchet,  who  brought  water  in  a 
silver  ewer.  Marie  knelt  beside  the  princess  and 
after  gently  bathing  her  forehead  was  rewarded  by  a 
faint  flush  that  surmounted  her  temples.  Soon  Vic- 
toire  opened  her  eyes,  and  her  lips  formed  two  or 
three  inarticulate  words.  "  Is  he  dead?  "  Marie  heard 
her  murmur,  presently. 

"  We  hope  not,  Madame,"  replied  Marie,  gently. 

The  king  was  beside  Victoire  immediately. 

"You  must  let  me  assist  you  into  the  house, 
Madame,"  he  said,  raising  her  to  her  feet. 

Victoire  found  that,  though  somewhat  dizzy  and 
greatly  exhausted,  she  could  stand.  "  Sire,"  she 
replied,  feebly,  "  I  cannot  go  until  I  know  if  M.  de 
Chabanes  lives." 

"A  surgeon  has  been  sent  for,  Madame,"  replied 
the  king,  "  and  the  count  will  be  removed  to  the 
H6tel  de  Montpensier  at  once.  He  is  still  alive, 
though  his  comrade,  the  Baron  de  Plontard,  is  stone 
dead." 

In  a  few  moments  the  surgeon,  Ambroise  Par6, 
arrived  with  a  litter,  on  which  the  count  was  placed 
and  quickly  carried  to  the  H6tel  de  Montpensier. 
Victoire,  weak  and  exhausted,  insisted  on  accom- 


238  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

panying  them  thither,  and  the  king  gallantly  escorted 
her  to  the  door  of  the  court. 

"  And  how  does  it  happen,  Madame,"  he  asked, 
wonderingly,  "  that  you  find  yourself  in  the  Rue  des 
Barres  at  such  a  time  ?  " 

"  Sire,  I  scarcely  know,"  replied  Victoire,  whose 
scattered  wits  could  not  formulate  an  intelligent 
reply.  "  My  maid  came  with  me ;  we  were  greatly 
frightened ;  how  cruel  it  is  —  Sire,  tell  me,  will  he 
live?" 

"  Let  us  trust  so,  Madame ;  he  is  a  gallant  gentle- 
man. He  is  very  dear  to  you?" 

"  He  is  my  friend,  my  dearest  friend !  "  wailed 
Victoire,  disconsolately. 

Ambroise  Pare  worked  with  the  wounded  man  for 
several  hours.  When  he  came  out  of  the  count's 
chamber  he  said  to  the  Prince  de  Montpensier,  who 
had  been  waiting  impatiently  at  the  door,  "  Monsieur, 
your  friend  is  badly  wounded.  He  has  received  a 
sword-thrust  through  the  lung  and  another  through 
the  thigh.  If  he  live,  thank  God  for  it !  " 

"  And,"  added  the  surgeon  to  himself,  as  he  left 
the  h6tel,  "  thank  Ambroise  Pare"  that  the  ligature 
has  been  substituted  for  the  cautery." 

When  the  gentlemen  of  the  Civil  Watch  had  ren- 
dered the  desired  assistance  to  the  king,  they  examined 
the  bodies  of  the  vagabonds  and  found  that  life  still 
remained  in  one  of  them.  The  captain  instructed 
two  of  his  men  to  carry  the  still  living  cut-throat  to  a 
sort  of  hospital  near  by,  presided  over  by  the  sisters 
of  Sainte  Catherine.  The  following  day  the  king  sent 
a  messenger  to  the  captain  of  the  Watch.  The  mes- 


A    CATASTROPHE  AND  A   FRUSTRATION       239 

senger  returned  to  the  Louvre  with  word  that  one  of 
the  vagabonds  was  not  fatally  wounded,  and  that 
immediately  on  his  recovery  he  would  be  examined 
with  a  view  to  apprehending  his  accomplices. 

The  Due  d'Anjou,  who,  as  it  may  well  be  imagined, 
had  spent  a  sleepless  night,  having  learned  of  the 
manner  in  which  his  plot  had  miscarried,  was  on  the 
lookout  for  just  such  messengers  as  the  one  that  came 
back  from  the  Captain  of  the  Watch.  He  intercepted 
the  man  as  he  left  the  king's  cabinet. 

"What  news  have  you  obtained  of  last  night's 
events?"  he  demanded. 

"  None,  Monseigneur,"  the  messenger  replied, 
"  except  that  one  of  the  assassins  will  live." 

Anjou  scowled  ominously.  "And  where  is  he 
now?"  he  asked,  with  apparent  anxiety. 

"  Safe  in  the  care  of  the  sisters  of  Sainte  Catherine, 
Monseigneur." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  replied  the  duke ;  "  he  will  be 
well  guarded  and  we  shall  learn  who  are  the  instigators 
of  this  vile  plot;"  and  he  walked  carelessly  away. 

At  the  entrance  to  Catherine's  cabinet  he  met  his 
sister  Marguerite.  Now  that  his  plot  had  failed,  he 
no  longer  feared  Madame.  He  knew  that  she  durst 
not  inform  either  the  king  or  the  queen-mother  of  his 
complicity  in  the  purposed  assassination.  The  entire 
influence  of  Catherine  de  Medicis  with  Charles  IX. 
would  be  exerted  in  behalf  of  her  favorite  son,  even, 
if  necessary,  against  Marguerite.  Madame  sedu- 
lously avoided  her  brother,  merely  greeting  him  with 
a  cool  nod.  She  had  passed  a  fearful  night,  as  her 
haggard  face  indicated.  Toward  midnight,  crazed 


240  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

by  her  lonely  vigil,  locked  within  the  chamber  of 
Mme.  de  Montpensier,  she  had  resolved  to  brave  the 
cunning  of  her  brother,  Anjou,  and  had  rushed  out 
into  the  corridor,  breathless  with  the  weigh£  of  the 
awful  suspense  she  had  been  compelled  to  bear.  A 
man  was  approaching  down  the  corridor.  "  Anjou  !  " 
she  screamed,  in  accents  of  frenzy,  rushing  forward 
and  throwing  her  arms  about  the  man's  neck. 

"  No,  not  Anjou,"  was  the  kindly  reply :  "  France, 
Margot." 

"  Thank  God,  Sire,  thank  God  !  "  cried  Marguerite, 
bursting  into  the  torrent  of  tears  that  was  the  sole 
possible  reaction  of  her  intense  mental  strain. 

"  Why,  Margot !  "  said  the  king,  gently ;  "  what  has 
happened?" 

"  Oh,  Charles,  my  brother,"  replied  the  weeping 
woman ;  "  I  have  had  such  a  terrible  dream ! " 

"  What  a  wonderful  sympathy  exists  between  us ! " 
thought  the  king.  In  that  instant  began  an  ardent 
and  lasting  friendship  between  the  two. 


XXII 

A  TEMPER  AND  A  RECONCILIATION 

'  I  VHE  marriage  of  the  Due  de  Montpensier  and 
•*•  Guise's  sister,  Claude  de  Lorraine,  was  solem- 
nized a  few  weeks  after  the  wounding  of  the  Comte  de 
Chabanes,  without  the  Prince  de  Montpensier  taking 
an  active  interest  in  the  event.  He  excused  himself 
on  the  ground  of  the  illness  of  his  friend;  and  the 
duke,  his  father,  a  thoroughly  practical  diplomat, 
knowing  the  distrust  that  existed  between  his  son  and 
the  Due  de  Guise,  did  not  press  the  former  to  unusual 
exertions  in  the  exhibition  of  family  interest.  The 
princess,  who  devoted  herself  entirely  to  caring  for 
the  stricken  count,  was  also  unable  to  figure  promi- 
nently in  the  betrothal  and  wedding  ceremonies,  and, 
although  she  often  longed  to  see  Guise  again,  she 
was  thankful  when  her  father-in-law,  in  view  of 
Chabanes'  condition,  took  up  his  residence  at  the 
H6tel  de  Guise  and  left  the  H6tel  de  Montpensier  to 
the  uses  of  the  prince.  The  Catholic  and  Protestant 
armies  again  took  the  field,  and  Anjou,  Guise,  and 
Montpensier  resumed  their  commands.  At  court  the 
gossips  became  active  with  the  reports  of  the  intimacy 
of  Guise  with  Marguerite  de  Valois,  spread  at  the 
instigation  of  Anjou  by  his  favorite,  the  Baron  du 

Guast. 

16 


242  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Chabanes'  illness  was  most  severe,  and  it  was 
months  before  he  became  convalescent.  A  less 
vigorous  constitution  could  scarcely  have  combated 
the  illness  that  attended  his  wounds,  and  the  wonder 
was  that  the  terrible  fever  through  which  the  count 
had  passed  had  not  resulted  in  his  death.  The  pro- 
cess of  recovering  had  necessarily  been  tedious,  and 
it  had  afforded  Chabanes  ample  opportunity  for  re- 
flection. The  tenderness  and  solicitous  care  with 
which  those  about  him  had  surrounded  him  were 
most  pleasant  to  contemplate.  Especially  had  Vic- 
toire  permitted  nothing  to  interfere  with  her  devotion 
to  the  count,  attending  constantly  to  his  desires,  an- 
ticipating his  needs,  and  in  a  thousand  little  ways, 
such  as  an  affectionate  woman  only  can  design,  making 
his  illness  as  endurable  as  possible. 

Chabanes  saw  with  no  little  joy  the  depth  of  interest 
that  Victoire  displayed  in  him.  Often  she  told  him  of 
the  intense  anxiety  that  had  overpowered  her  when 
she  was  uncertain  as  to  whether  he  would  live.  He 
knew  that  he  must  be  more  to  her  than  she  realized, 
and  he  rejoiced  that  her  anxiety  and  tenderness  for 
him  should  not  in  the  least  conflict  with  her  deter- 
mined loyalty  to  the  prince.  When  he  became 
convalescent  she  caused  his  sick-chamber  to  be 
freshened  in  every  possible  way,  hanging  the  grim 
oaken  panellings  with  bright-colored  tapestries,  and 
tastefully  adorning  the  room  with  beautiful  flowers. 
She  spent  many  hours  reading  and  conversing  with 
him.  In  this  latter  manner  she  kept  him  informed 
of  the  affairs  of  court,  which  she  had  almost  entirely 
deserted,  and  of  the  progress  of  the  war;  so  that 


A    TEMPER  AND  A   RECONCILIATION         243 

Chabanes  felt  that,  on  his  recovery,  he  would  be  able 
to  appear  at  the  Louvre  with  as  thorough  a  knowl- 
edge of  current  events  as  if  he  had  not  been  out  of 
its  life  for  a  single  day.  Antoinette,  when  permitted, 
also  rendered  herself  useful  in  securing  his  comfort. 
As  for  the  Prince  de  Montpensier,  he  had  spared 
nothing  to  prove  to  his  friend  the  value  of  a  true  and 
unselfish  affection. 

This  state  of  affairs  naturally  prompted  the  count  to 
renew  his  resolve  to  devote  his  life  to  fostering  the 
happiness  of  the  prince  and  Victoire.  He  gathered 
daily  evidence  of  the  necessity  to  his  friends  of  a  con- 
fidant that  could  adjust  their  differences  and  guard 
their  domestic  relationship  from  the  thousand  dis- 
appointments attendant  on  a  loveless  marriage  of 
convenience.  He  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  what 
disasters  might  have  overtaken  them  had  the  assassins 
in  the  Rue  des  Barres  struck  deeper,  and  his  heart 
was  filled  with  gratitude  for  the  privilege  of  preserving 
the  happiness  of  those  he  best  loved. 

When  his  conscience  troubled  him  through  the 
memory  of  the  one  mistake  he  had  made  at  Cham- 
pigny,  he  was  able  to  sincerely  console  it  with  the  in- 
dubitable knowledge  that  not  only  was  he  necessary 
in  every  way  to  his  heart's  mistress  but  that  Mont- 
pensier's  happiness  depended  in  so  great  measure 
on  the  man  he  loved.  The  radiant  beauty  of  Victoire, 
her  noble  simplicity  and  innocence,  her  remarkable 
wit,  and  the  unconscious  tenderness  with  which  she 
surrounded  him,  all  of  which  combined  to  make  the 
count's  return  to  health  so  pleasant,  were  offset  only 
by  the  regret  that  he  was  unable  to  be  with  her  in 


244  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

every  place,  to  foresee  her  dangers,  and  to  fight  her 
battles. 

Being  so  rarely  at  court,  the  princess  had  become  a 
much  less  conspicuous  figure  among  the  queen- 
mother's  ladies-in-waiting  than  she  had  been  before 
Chabanes'  illness.  The  Due  de  Guise  being  long 
absent  in  the  conduct  of  the  war,  Marguerite  de 
Valois  forgot  her  hatred  of  Victoire,  and  at  the  same 
time  her  gratitude  to  the  latter  for  having  been  the 
means  of  thwarting  Anjou's  plot  against  the  king. 
Victoire  having  once  ventured  to  ask  Madame  how 
she  had  been  aware  of  her  brother's  danger,  Margue- 
rite related  a  well  concocted  tale  about  a  premo- 
nition that  had  suddenly  and  forcibly  possessed  her 
on  that  very  night,  iterating  that  sheer  fright  had 
prevented  her  going  in  person  to  the  rescue  of  the 
king  or  sending  some  one  more  fitted  for  such  a 
mission  than  the  princess. 

Montpensier,  when  he  saw  that  his  friend's  complete 
recovery  was  again  assured,  returned  to  his  troops, 
participating  in  the  battle  of  Arnay-le-Duc,  the  glory 
of  which  he  again  shared  with  Guise  and  Anjou. 

In  August  the  count  made  his  first  appearance  at 
court  since  the  preceding  December.  Peace  between 
the  Catholics  and  the  Huguenots  was  concluded  on 
the  eighth  of  the  month  at  Saint-Germain-en-Laye, 
both  parties  being  weary  of  a  tedious  and  destructive 
war.  The  Pope,  Pius  V.,  had  written  the  queen- 
mother,  urging  the  prosecution  of  the  war,  and  Philip 
II.  of  Spain  had  offered  the  king  nine  thousand  men, 
but  Charles  IX.  joyfully  received  the  announcement 
that  his  terms  of  peace  had  been  accepted.  The  Dues 


A    TEMPER  AND  A   RECONCILIATION          245 

de  Guise  and  d'Anjou  were  again  enthusiastically  wel- 
comed at  court.  The  former  began  at  once  dividing 
his  attentions  between  Mme.  de  Montpensier  and 
Marguerite  de  Valois.  Anjou,  whose  hatred  of  his 
sister  had  augmented,  if  anything,  behaved  toward 
her  on  all  occasions  with  effusive  hypocrisy,  contriv- 
ing as  often  as  possible  to  throw  her  with  the  Due  de 
Guise.  He  believed  that  by  this  policy  he  would 
give  color  to  the  rumors  of  undue  intimacy  between 
his  sister  and  Guise,  which  he  had  caused  his  favorite, 
the  Baron  du  Guast,  to  scatter  broadcast  throughout 
the  court.  He  would  also  be  the  means  of  bringing 
Guise  into  extreme  disfavor  with  the  king  by  thus 
making  it  appear  that  the  young  duke  aspired  to  the 
hand  of  Madame. 

Beyond  these  motives  there  was  one  of  even  greater 
importance  in  the  eyes  of  Anjou  for  his  efforts  to 
bring  Guise  and  his  sister  together  as  often  as  possible. 
He  could  thus  impress  Victoire  de  Montpensier  with 
the  general  belief  that  Guise  loved  Madame,  and  so 
ruin  any  chances  of  favor  in  which,  in  the  mind  of 
the  prince's  wife,  Guise  might  be  held.  Anjou  was 
not  certain  as  to  the  position  of  the  princess  in  regard 
to  Guise.  So  far  she  had  received  his  own  attentions 
with  no  disfavor,  —  quite,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  as  she 
had  received  those  of  the  Due  de  Guise.  He  saw  an 
opportunity  for  accomplishing  a  threefold  aim  in  the 
circulation  of  rumors  against  Guise  and  his  sister,  and, 
with  his  customary  lack  of  scruple,  he  eagerly  seized 
on  it. 

The  king  received  the  Comte  de  Chabanes  with 
marked  favor,  warmly  congratulating  him  on  his  re- 


246  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

covery,  and  expressing  gratitude  for  the  loyal  service 
the  count  had  rendered  him.  Indeed  the  count 
became  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes  for  the  first  few  days. 
Victoire  spent  much  of  her  time  conversing  with  the 
count,  in  whom  she  reposed  a  vast  amount  of  pride. 
It  was  impossible  to  know  Chabanes  as  the  true  and 
honorable  nobleman  that  he  was,  unmarred  by  hypoc- 
risy or  affectation,  strong  in  mind  and  body,  and 
fearless  partisan  of  right,  without  comparing  him  most 
favorably  with  the  shallow,  vain,  and  untrustworthy 
men  of  the  court  of  Charles  IX.  Victoire  considered 
none  the  equal  of  Chabanes,  unless  it  were  the  Due 
de  Guise,  whose  hotheadedness,  she  thought,  was 
almost  his  sole  defect.  Doubtless  the  duke  would 
have  overcome  this  defect  by  the  time  he  would  have 
attained  the  count's  age.  Still,  even  then  he  could 
not  be  quite  what  Raoul  had  always  been ;  there  was 
a  shade  of  distinction  between  them  that  nothing 
sufficed  to  abolish.  But  they  were  two  great  men 
occupying  prominent  positions  in  her  mind  and  heart. 
Let  it  not  be  understood  that  her  feelings  toward 
the  two  men  were  similar.  She  regarded  the  count  as 
a  brother  and  a  confidant,  as  necessary  to  her  spiritual 
happiness  as  was  food  to  her  bodily  existence,  and 
toward  him  she  felt  not  the  slightest  reserve.  There 
was  scarcely  a  thought  that  crossed  her  mind  that  she 
did  not  repeat  to  Chabanes,  and  she  went  to  him  first 
whenever  she  felt  the  need  of  advice.  All  this  was  with 
the  knowledge  and  sanction  of  Montpensier,  who, 
though  doubtless  in  his  heart  he  would  have  preferred 
that  his  wife  should  place  her  trust  equally  in  himself, 
could  not  but  feel  a  certain  joy  that  the  man  he  ad- 


A    TEMPER  AND  A   RECONCILIATION          247 

mired  and  loved  above  all  others  should  be  so  highly 
regarded  by  his  wife.  If  Victoire  admired  her 
husband,  it  was  on  this  account;  none  could  help 
respecting  the  unselfishness  of  his  great  friendship 
for  Chabanes. 

But  Guise  was  Victoire's  hero,  —  Guise  the  dashing, 
Guise  the  brilliant,  riding  recklessly  at  the  head  of 
his  columns,  charging  with  unsurpassed  fearlessness 
the  enemies  of  the  king  and  her  religion,  and  never 
revealing  to  her  the  utter  lack  of  principle  that  was  the 
basic  idea  of  his  character.  Chabanes  she  sought  for 
sympathy;  Guise,  for  admiration.  Could  there  have 
been  combined  in  one  personality  the  qualities  of 
these  two  men,  as  she  saw  them,  she  would  have  loved 
beyond  doubt.  The  admiration  of  Chabanes  was 
pleasing  to  her ;  he  was  loyal,  brave,-  true,  a  perfect 
friend  and  confidant.  But  the  adulation  of  Henri  de 
Guise,  for  which  all  the  women  of  the  court  contended, 
gave  her  extreme  pleasure.  Toward  her  husband 
her  feelings  did  not  change.  She  was  faithful  and 
dutiful  as  a  wife,  indulgent  in  his  moments  of  morose- 
ness  —  which  were  none  too  rare  —  and  encouraging 
when  he  was  cheerful.  And  the  Prince  de  Montpen- 
sier  daily  became  more  imbued  with  the  belief  that 
his  household  lacked  but  one  thing,  as  Chabanes 
had  told  him,  — love. 

Anjou  became  more  and  more  enamoured  of  Vic- 
toire. His  intentions  toward  her  were  penetrated  by 
half  the  court,  including  Chabanes,  long  before  the 
princess  was  in  the  least  aware  of  them.  Monsieur 
became  jealous  of  all  that  received  the  slightest 
recognition  from  her.  Mile,  de  la  Cha'teauneuf,  his 


248  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

mistress,  was  forgotten.  He  began  to  distrust  Cha- 
banes  for  his  intimacy  with  Victoire,  and,  one  evening, 
he  imparted  this  distrust  to  his  confidant,  Guast. 

"  Louis,"  he  said,  pettishly,  "  what  is  the  position 
of  this  omnipresent  Comte  de  Chabanes  in  the  affec- 
tions of  Mme.  de  Montpensier?" 

"  More  serious  than  many  of  us  have  imagined,  I 
fear,"  rejoined  the  favorite,  whose  sole  ambition  was 
to  foster  the  hatreds  of  Anjou,  that  he  might  serve 
him  in  their  prosecution  and  thus  retain  his  hold  on 
the  latter's  favor.  "  One  might  easily  be  led  to 
believe  that  they  cloaked  an  amour  under  an  almost 
impenetrable  ostentation  of  friendship." 

"  I  have  been  filled  with  the  same  idea  of  late," 
continued  Monsieur,  thoughtfully. 

"  And  to  one  that  desired  the  favor  of  the  prin- 
cess," added  Guast,  significantly,  "  it  would  be  of 
advantage  that  this  count  be  off  the  scene,  or  at 
least  rendered  hors  de  combat" 

The  duke  eyed  his  friend  narrowly,  but  did  not 
reply.  "The  suggestion  is  not  without  value,"  he 
thought;  "  I  may  act  on  it  if  opportunity  offer." 

Opportunity  did  offer,  as  we  shall  see,  and  Anjou 
acted  on  it. 

Guise,  after  this  last  return  to  court,  felt  his  in- 
clination for  Victoire  return  with  doubled  strength. 
He  sought  her  on  all  occasions,  showing  her  every 
attention  that  was  gratifying  and  indicative  of  the 
greatest  admiration,  and  more  recklessly  than  ever 
risking  the  jealousy  of  her  husband.  Chabanes 
watched  this  little  drama,  in  which  Victoire,  Guise, 
Anjou,  the  prince,  and  himself  were  the  actors,  with 


A    TEMPER  AND  A   RECONCILIATION          249 

extreme  uneasiness.  He  felt  that  scenes  similar  to 
those  that  had  occurred  when  Guise  visited  Cham- 
pigny  were  liable  to  be  enacted,  and  he  dreaded  the 
consequences  of  his  friend's  wrath  when  once  it 
should  be  fully  aroused  against  Guise,  Anjou,  and 
Victoire,  as  he  dreaded  the  anguish  to  which  the 
torments  of  his  own  insensate  jealousy  would  sub- 
ject him. 

Above  all  things  Guise  now  aimed  at  the  affection 
of  Victoire,  and,  although  he  had  not  the  least  assur- 
ance that  he  had  progressed  in  his  suit,  he  did  not 
lose  hope.  Since  the  night  at  Champigny,  when  his 
protestations  of  passion  were  interrupted  by  the 
Comte  de  Chabanes,  Guise  had  not  directly  declared 
his  love  to  Victoire.  Becoming  unusually  impatient 
and  dissatisfied  with  their  position,  he  at  length  de- 
cided to  risk  another  avowal  of  passion. 

Being  in  the  cabinet  of  the  queen-mother,  who 
had  retired  to  talk  affairs  of  state  with  his  uncle, 
the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  Guise  saw  Victoire  enter 
the  room  alone.  He  approached  her  with  a  troubled 
air  and  begged  for  a  moment's  audience,  which  was 
unhesitatingly  granted. 

"  I  am  going  to  surprise  and  displease  you, 
Madame,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  impatient  serious- 
ness, "  by  frankly  telling  you  that  I  have  always 
conserved  that  passion  of  which  you  were  formerly 
aware,  and  which  has  so  greatly  augmented  on  see- 
ing you  again  that  neither  your  severity  nor  the 
hatred  of  M.  le  Prince  de  Montpensier,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  evident  inclinations  of  the  first  prince  of  the 
realm,  can  take  from  it  a  single  jot  of  its  violence." 


A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Victoire  was  taken  utterly  by  surprise.  So  fierce 
and  rapid  was  this  onslaught  that  she  was  unable 
to  control  herself  sufficiently  to  forbid  the  duke  to 
continue. 

"  I  have  respectfully  tried  to  make  you  aware  of 
my  passion  by  every  possible  action,  but  I  have 
begun  to  fear  lest  these  actions  betray  it  to  others, 
as  the  actions  of  M.  d'Anjou  have  betrayed  his 
intentions  to  half  the  court;  and  naturally  it  is  my 
wish  that  you'  alone  should  know  that  I  am  auda- 
cious enough  to  adore  you." 

The  absurdity  of  the  reference  to  Anjou,  inasmuch 
as  the  attentions  of  Guise  to  Victoire  had  vied  with 
those  of  Monsieur  on  all  occasions,  was  not  manifest 
to  the  princess,  who,  greatly  confused,  was  endeavor- 
ing to  collect  her  faculties  for  a  reply  that  would 
prevent  any  repetitions  of  the  declaration  Guise  had 
just  made.  Her  agitation  was  extreme,  and  her  lips 
were  scarcely  able  to  frame  the  words  that  in  torrents 
crossed  her  mind.  As  chance  would  have  it,  the 
Prince  de  Montpensier,  who  was  seeking  his  wife, 
entered  the  room.  The  picture  that  greeted  his 
jealous  eye  was  that  of  the  Due  de  Guise  leaning 
familiarly  over  his  wife  in  a  semi-triumphant  atti- 
tude of  eager  expectation,  while  she,  trembling  and 
blushing  violently,  betrayed  the  deepest  emotion. 
He  was  at  her  side  in  an  instant. 

"  Madame,"  he  said,  white  with  rage  and  in  a  tone 
that  made  no  effort  to  conceal  his  anger,  "  I  desire 
your  presence  in  your  own  apartments  at  once." 

He  turned  on  his  heel  without  deigning  even  to 
notice  the  presence  of  Guise,  who  flushed  hotly  and 


A    TEMPER  AND  A   RECONCILIATION          2$l 

seemed  about  to  speak,  but  discreetly  decided  to 
retire. 

Victoire  sought  her  apartments  in  mortification 
and  despair.  She  found  her  husband  pacing  the 
floor  and  clenching  his  hands  in  violent  anger. 

"  Monsieur,"  she  said,  summoning  all  her  dignity, 
"you  have  done  me  the  honor  of  requesting  my 
presence  here.  In  what  may  I  be  of  service  to 
you?" 

"  I  demand  to  know,  Madame,"  said  Montpensier, 
without  making  an  effort  to  control  himself,  "  of 
what  you  were  conversing  with  M.  de  Guise  when 
I  entered  the  cabinet  of  the  queen-mother  a  moment 
ago." 

"I  shall  heed  no  demands,  Monsieur,"  replied 
Victoire,  simply. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  prince,  who  had  expected 
no  such  resistance.  "  Do  you  dare  refuse  to  tell 
me  ?  In  that  case  I  shall  use  my  right  to  draw  my 
own  conclusions.  But  I  warn  you,  Madame,  that 
I  am  fully  cognizant  tof  the  attentions  he  pays  you, 
as  well  as  of  the  favor  with  which  you  receive  them ; 
and,  let  me  tell  you,  another  instance  such  as  has 
just  occurred  will  result  seriously  for  yourself  and 
him." 

Victoire  maintained  her  self-control  and  did  not 
reply.  Montpensier's  anger  was  only  heightened  by 
this  course. 

"  Victoire,"  he  said,  coming  close  to  her  and  gazing 
at  her  ominously,  "  you  shall  heed  this.  I  forbid  you 
under  any  circumstances  to  speak  again  to  the  Due 
de  Guise." 


252  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Then  he  darted  out  of  the  room,  slamming  the 
door  after  him.  Victoire,  in  tears,  sought  her  oratory 
and  poured  out  her  afflictions  to  the  ever  sympathetic 
marble  Virgin  above  the  priedieu.  Not  long  after, 
Antoinette  entered  the  room  and  announced  that 
the  Comte  de  Chabanes  desired  to  speak  with  the 
princess. 

Victoire  received  Chabanes  eagerly.  "  Raoul,"  she 
cried,  gratefully,  "  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come !  I 
have  been  unspeakably  miserable." 

"  I  have  been  talking  to  Charles,"  replied  the  count, 
gently.  He  was  very  pale,  and  Victoire  imagined 
that  he  had  had  much  difficulty  in  quieting  the  anger 
of  her  husband.  The  count's  torments  of  jealousy 
when  Montpensier  had  told  him  of  the  scene  between 
Victoire  and  Guise,  added  to  his  grief  at  the  knowl- 
edge of  his  dearest  friends'  lamentable  unhappiness, 
had  given  him  intense  pain.  He  was  filled  with  an 
immense  longing  to  take  the  woman  in  his  arms  and 
comfort  her  with  his  love,  as  he  felt  it  capable. 

"  I  think  I  have  convinced  him  that  he  was  impulsive 
and  unreasonable,  my  dear  Victoire"  —he  spoke  the 
affectionate  adjective  with  such  fervency  that  she 
could  not  help  going  to  his  side  and  tenderly  laying 
her  hand  in  his.  Chabanes  flushed  with  pleasure  at 
this  mark  of  esteem  and  gratitude ;  he  held  the  hand 
tightly  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  gathered  greater 
strength  from  its  contact.  "  He  is  going  to  ask  your 
forgiveness  and  indulgence  for  what  he  realizes  was 
hasty  and  rude,"  continued  Chabanes,  gently.  "  I 
know  I  need  not  ask  you  to  freely  grant  him  pardon." 

"  Raoul,"  said  Victoire,  fervently,  "  how  can  I  ever 


A    TEMPER  AND  A   RECONCILIATION          253 

thank  you  ?  Was  there  ever  in  all  the  world  so  true 
and  noble  a  friend  ?  " 

Chabanes  sighed.  "  God  help  me  not  to  disappoint 
her  ! "  he  prayed,  earnestly,  beneath  his  breath. 

"  A  moment  ago,  even  as  I  knelt  before  the  image 
of  the  Holy  Mother,  my  heart  was  full  of  bitterness, 
besieged  by  a  thousand  evil  impulses.  Now  I  give 
you  my  word  that  I  shall  freely  forgive  and  make 
every  effort  to  forget." 

"Thank  you,"  replied  Chabanes,  with  great  sin- 
cerity. "  Charles  was  very  unhappy  and  penitent  a 
moment  after  he  left  you;  now  his  despair  must 
vanish  in  an  instant.  Take  good  care  of  his  peace  of 
mind,  Victoire,  —  always;  he  is  a  true  man,  in  spite 
of  his  rash  impulses  and  his  proneness  to  jealousy. 
It  is  always  thus  with  the  sensitive,  whose  spiritual 
defect  should  be  as  readily  overlooked  as  should  be 
the  physical  deformity  of  a  friend." 

Montpensier  entered  unannounced.  Victoire  went 
to  meet  him,  extending  her  hand  in  token  of  cordial 
forgiveness.  The  count  smiled  approvingly;  Mont- 
pensier went  gratefully  to  his  friend's  side. 

"  Raoul,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  that  was  the  direct 
opposite  of  that  in  which,  a  while  before,  he  had 
addressed  his  wife,  "  the  debt  of  gratitude  I  owe  you 
can  never  be  paid.  No  truer  friend  or  nobler  man 
than  yourself  ever  existed.  I  thank  God  that  He 
has  given  me  your  friendship." 

Chabanes  did  not  reply.  His  heart  overflowed 
with  emotion,  and,  as  he  hastened  from  the  room, 
Victoire  remarked  that  his  eyes  were  glistening  with 
tears. 


254  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  He  is  all  modesty,"  said  the  prince  to  his  wife. 

And  in  the  mind  of  the  latter  there  sprang  up  anew 
the  old  involuntary  impulse  to  compare  and  contrast 
the  good  friend  that  had  just  left  them  with  the  im- 
petuous Due  de  Guise.  How  much  more  admirable, 
all  in  all,  had  been  the  present  conduct  of  Chabanes 
than  that  of  the  duke  ! 

As  the  count  left  the  apartments  of  the  princess 
he  encountered  Anjou,  whom  he  saluted  civilly  and 
passed  at  once. 

"Per  ma  fe!"  exclaimed  Monsieur  to  himself, 
when  Chabanes  was  out  of  sight.  "  He  even  visits 
her  apartments  in  the  daytime !  And  in  the  mean- 
while I  —  the  brother  of  the  king  —  must  content 
myself  with,  now  and  then,  a  moment's  converse  in 
my  mother's  cabinet,  or  a  quarter-hour  at  a  ball,  as  a 
hungry  dog  contents  himself  with  a  spare  bone  that 
is  carelessly  tossed  him.  We  shall  see  what  our  cut- 
throat friend  at  the  hospital  of  the  sisters  of  Sainte 
Catherine  can  do  for  us  !  " 


XXIII 

A    RUMOR    AND    AN    ERROR 

'  I  VHE  Due  de  Guise  did  not  approach  Victoire 
•*•  when  he  saw  her  at  court  during  the  next  few 
days.  Daily  he  was  realizing  more  fully  with  what 
utter  innocence  the  princess  regarded  him,  and  he 
saw  how  important  it  was  to  the  furthering  of  his  own 
cause  that  he,  in  every  way,  should  encourage  her 
belief  in  his  guilelessness.  He  cast  about  him  for  a 
means  of  meeting  the  requirements  of  her  concep- 
tion of  his  character.  It  was  almost  madness,  he  felt, 
to  imagine  that  there  existed  in  the  French  court  so 
pure  and  innocent  a  soul,  and  yet  even  he,  the  most 
profligate  and  dissolute  of  them  all,  could  not  for  an 
instant  doubt  the  ingenuousness  of  Victoire.  She 
made  clear  for  him  his  part,  and  he  firmly  resolved 
to  play  it  with  all  his  skill. 

Whenever  she  left  the  cabinet  of  the  queen-mother 
he  invariably  retired  shortly  after,  in  the  hope  of  let- 
ting her  know  that  his  pleasure  lay  only  in  her  society, 
and  that  that  of  the  other  ladies  of  Catherine  de 
Medicis  was  of  no  consequence  to  him. 

One  day,  when  she  was  about  to  leave  the  cabinet 
for  her  own  apartments,  the  princess  was  accosted 
by  the  Baron  du  Guast,  who  engaged  her  in  con- 
versation. 


256  A   PAR  FIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  And  what  think  you,  Mme.  la  Princesse,"  said  he, 
gaily,  "  of  the  rumored  marriage  ?  " 

"What  marriage  do  you  mean,  Monsieur?"  in- 
quired Victoire.  "  That  of  Madame  with  the  King  of 
Portugal?" 

"  By  my  faith,  no,  Madame.  That  of  Madame  with 
our  admirable  M.  de  Guise." 

Victoire  was  unable  to  restrain  a  start  of  pained 
surprise.  "  Indeed,  I  had  not  heard  of  it,  Monsieur," 
she  replied,  with  a  violent  effort  to  control  herself. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Guast,  "  you  have  not  heard 
these  rumors  that  have  been  so  freely  circulated  for 
weeks  ?  I  forget,  though ;  the  illness  of  M.  de  Cha- 
banes  has  kept  you  away  from  court  much  of  the 
time,  and ,  has  doubtless  deprived  you  of  all  other 
interests." 

Victoire  was  too  much  occupied  with  the  intima- 
tion of  Guise's  relations  with  Madame  to  notice  the 
guile  with  which  these  last  words  were  uttered. 
Could  such  a  rumor  be  true?  Was  the  Due  de 
Guise  only  deceiving  her,  then,  when  he  had  declared 
his  love?  But,  after  all,  what  should  it  matter  to 
her? 

"There  is  much  reason  for  this  rumor,  M.  le 
Baron  ?  "  asked  Victoire,  with  ill-affected  indifference. 

"  Much,  indeed,  Madame,"  replied  the  baron,  smil- 
ing at  the  effect  his  words  had  produced.  "  I  have 
it  from  M.  d'Anjou  himself  that  not  only  is  M.  de 
Guise  madly  in  love  with  the  king's  sister,  but  the 
passion  is  returned  by  her  with  double  interest. 
Only  last  night  the  Due  d'Anjou,  who  I  begin  to 
believe  favors  M.  de  Guise's  suit,  said  to  the  lattqr, 


A   RUMOR  AND  AN  ERROR 

with   whom    he    had    gone   to  Madame's   chamber, 
'  Would  to  God  thou  wert  indeed  my  brother ! '  " 

Guast  smiled  again.  His  eye  had  met  the  encour- 
aging glance  of  the  Due  d'Anjou,  who  was  watching 
them  from  an  opposite  corner  of  the  room.  Victoire's 
brain  was  reeling  madly.  M.  de  Guise  in  the 
chamber  of  Marguerite  de  Valois  !  The  Due  d'Anjou 
favoring  his  suit !  Madame  madly  in  love  with  him  ! 
Had  she  been  dreaming,  then,  when,  but  a  few  days 
before,  M.  de  Guise  had  sworn  his  love  for  her? 

"It  would  be  a  good  marriage  for  M.  de  Guise," 
were  the  only  words  she  could  find  with  which  to 
reply. 

Guast  permitted  her  to  pass,  having  accomplished 
his  purpose.  "  Henri,"  he  said  to  Anjou,  a  moment 
later,  "  did  you  notice  her  agitation  ?  I  cannot  tell 
whether  it  was  the  mention  of  Guise  or  of  Chabanes 
that  worried  her  most." 

"I  fear  the  former  less  than  the  latter  now,"  mut- 
tered Monsieur,  in  reply. 

Victoire  sought  her  chamber  in  mingled  despair 
and  resentment.  This  was  the  heaviest  blow  her 
pride  had  as  yet  had  to  bear,  that  M.  de  Guise  had, 
after  all,  been  insincere  in  his  declaration  of  love. 
All  her  nature  rebelled  against  this  deceit.  What  if 
M.  de  Guise  had  gone  farther  than  his  rights  in  de- 
claring his  love?  After  all,  the  insult  was  sufficient, 
even  if  the  love  were  indubitable,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  added  injury  of  deceit.  She  resolved  to  punish 
the  duke  by  completely  ignoring  him  in  the  future. 
No  one  had  ever  insulted  her  as  he  had,  and  he  must 
pay  for  the  wound  he  had  inflicted  on  her  pride. 

17 


'A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Her  opportunity  for  vengeance  came  a  few  days 
later  when  she  met  the  duke  at  the  H6tel  de  Guise, 
where  resided  the  Due  and  Duchesse  de  Montpensier. 
Guise  was  more  than  ever  intoxicated  by  the  beauty 
of  Victoire.  An  opportunity  offering,  he  arranged  to 
be  alone  with  her  in  an  alcove. 

"  Madame,"  he  pleaded,  consummately,  "  if  it  is 
the  last  act  of  my  life,  let  me  tell  you  again  that  you 
are  the  loveliest  princess  the  world  has  ever  known. 
Crush  me  beneath  your  dainty  foot  if  I  seem  dishon- 
orable to  you  in  thus  addressing  you,  but,  as  God  is 
my  witness,  I  cannot  restrain  this  burning  desire  to 
speak  to  you  of  my  love." 

Victoire  flushed  hotly  at  these  words.  "  Monsieur," 
she  said,  with  all  too  evident  indignation,  "  I  do  not 
understand  that  it  is  necessary,  on  the  basis  of  a 
childish  weakness,  that  you  should  have  the  audacity 
to  declare  a  passion  for  a  person  like  me,  and  cer- 
tainly not  when  you  love  another  before  all  the 
court !  " 

The  heart  of  Guise,  ever  a  man  of  wit,  leaped  with 
joy  as  he  heard  these  words  from  the  princess.  He 
needed  to  consult  no  one  to  realize  how  surely  she 
had  betrayed  a  deeper  interest  in  him  almost  than  he 
had  dared  believe  he  could  arouse  in  her.  In  a  well 
assumed  tone  of  respectful  contrition  he  replied,  "  I 
admit,  Madame,  that  I  have  not  been  able  wholly  to 
despise  the  honor  of  being  brother-in-law  to  my  king. 
But  it  is  my  duty  to  inform  you  that  I  am  incapable  of 
desiring  the  heart  of  another  than  yourself.  If  you 
will  do  me  the  honor  of  listening,  I  am  sure  I  can 
exonerate  myself  in  your  eyes." 


A   RUMOR  AND  AN  ERROR  259 

The  princess  did  not  reply.  She  petulantly  averted 
her  eyes  in  evident  incredulity.  However,  as  she 
made  no  move  to  leave,  Guise  saw  with  evil  joy  that 
his  audience  was  granted,  and  he  continued :  — 

"  I  shall  confess  to  you  that  which  I  would  admit 
to  no  other  person.  I  swear  to  you  that  I  have  not 
made  the  slightest  effort  to  win  the  favor  of  Madame, 
although  she  has  to  some  extent  honored  me  with  it. 
Indeed,  when  she  has  gone  so  far  as  to  hold  before 
me  the  possibility  of  a  marriage  with  her,  I  have  but 
meanly  responded  to  the  honor  she  has  done  me. 
This  has  been  in  the  face  of  the  desire  of  all  my 
house,  of  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  my  uncle,  and 
of  my  brothers,  all  of  whom  most  fully  realize  the 
grandeur  to  which  such  an  alliance  would  lift  the 
house  of  Guise.  Do  you  know,  Madame,  that,  though 
the  few  attentions  that  I  have  been  compelled  to  pay 
Marguerite  de  Valois  have  aroused  the  enmity  for  me 
of  the  king  and  of  Anjou,  I  had  resolved  of  late,  since 
you  have  shown  displeasure  at  my  conduct  and  have 
betrayed  no  interest  in  me,  to  marry  Madame  at  all 
hazards.  But  if  the  intention  displeases  you  I  abandon 
it  from  this  moment,  and  I  swear  never  to  consider  it 
again." 

Victoire  was  unable  to  explain  the  pleasure  the 
duke's  seemingly  sincere  words  gave  her.  She  freely 
forgave  what  she  had  thought  an  insult,  condemning 
herself  for  having  too  hastily  misjudged  him.  She 
realized,  however,  that  she  was  treading  on  dangerous 
ground. 

"  I  am  astonished  that  the  proud  Marguerite  should 
have  been  as  weak  as  you  assure  me  she  has  been," 
she  said,  evading  a  direct  reply. 


260  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

They  were  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Montpensier,  and,  shortly  after,  Victoire 
returned  to  the  Louvre. 

Guise  was  conscious  of  no  little  joy  at  the  inadver- 
tent admission  of  interest  into  which  Victoire  had  been 
led.  In  imagination  he  foresaw  the  success  of  his 
suit  and  the  attainment  of  the  love  of  his  enemy's 
wife,  whom  already  he  adored  madly.  Victoire,  when 
the  surprise  of  the  duke's  confession  had  worn  off,  felt 
a  sense  of  undefined  wrong.  Had  she  not  acted  the 
part  of  an  unfaithful  wife  in  even  listening  to  Guise's 
explanation  ?  Was  it  not  wrong  when  she  voluntarily 
heard  what  she  would  not  dare  repeat  to  her  husband  ? 
She  was  moved  to  send  for  the  Comte  de  Chabanes 
and  lay  the  entire  matter  before  him.  He  would 
reproach  her,  she  felt  sure.  And  why  should  he  not? 
She  knelt  on  her  prie-dieu  and  begged  the  counsel 
of  the  Holy  Mother.  Little  by  little  the  realization  of 
the  enormity  of  her  offence  grew  on  her.  She  had 
silently  listened  to  the  declaration  of  love  of  another 
than  her  husband  without  reproaching  the  audacious 
suitor.  She  had  tacitly  accepted  an  enormous  sacri- 
fice on  the  part  of  a  man  to  whom  she  had  no  right 
to  be  under  such  obligations.  For  the  first  time 
since  her  marriage  she  had  permitted  an  occurrence 
that  she  was  afraid  to  relate  to  the  Comte  de  Chabanes. 
Her  conscience  goaded  her  mercilessly.  In  despera- 
tion she  decided  to  seek  counsel  of  Mother  Frangoise, 
of  the  sisters  of  Sainte-Catherine,  whom  she  had  been 
in  the  habit  of  visiting. 

Mother  Frangoise  comforted  Victoire  with  worldly, 
as  well  as  spiritual,  advice.  Her  offence,  the  sister 


A   RUMOR  AND  AN  ERROR  26 1 

told  her,  was  smaller  than  she  imagined  it  to  be.  No 
great  harm  had  been  done  unless  she  should  allow  the 
occurrence  to  be  repeated  or  give  further  encourage- 
ment to  the  Due  de  Guise.  Victoire  returned  to  the 
Louvre  in  a  more  cheerful  frame  of  mind  than  she 
had  left  it. 

"  My  dear  Mother  Franchise,"  she  said,  however, 
before  leaving  the  convent,  "  I  am  filled  with  a  vague 
premonition  of  much  evil,  —  evil  that  may  result  in 
my  returning  here  as  a  last  and  a  permanent  refuge. 
Do  not  be  surprised  if,  some  day,  I  come  to  you 
never  again  to  leave  you." 

"  Right  welcome  you  will  be,  my  daughter,"  replied 
the  nun,  sincerely;  and  she  added  to  herself,  after 
Victoire  had  departed,  "  I  cannot  but  believe  that 
the  sooner  she  renounces  the  worldliness  of  the  court, 
for  contact  with  which  she  is  so  ill-fitted,  the  better  it 
will  be  for  her  immortal  soul." 

For  more  than  a  week  Victoire  ignored  Guise,  who 
accepted  the  treatment  with  apparent  humility,  mak- 
ing no  effort  to  approach  the  princess,  but  always 
pretending  to  avoid  Marguerite  de  Valois.  This 
conduct  was  not  without  its  effect  on  Victoire,  and, 
almost  before  she  knew  it,  she  began  to  feel  that 
she  was  doing  the  duke  an  injustice  and  that  she 
should  not  behave  toward  him  with  such  utter 
severity. 

Meeting  him  on  several  occasions  at  the  H6tel  de 
Guise,  she  granted  him  short  audiences,  during 
which  he  discreetly  confined  the  expression  of  his 
passion  to  languishing  glances  and  the  most  scrupu- 
lous attention  to  all  her  desires. 


262  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Several  times  when  the  duke  artfully  mentioned 
the  name  of  the  king's  sister,  he  was  gratified  to  note 
renewed  evidences  of  jealousy  on  the  part  of  the 
princess.  She  would  immediately  become  cold  and 
distant  toward  him,  and  he  found  no  little  difficulty 
in  extricating  himself  from  the  contempt  with  which 
she  would  then  shower  him. 

Both  Chabanes  and  the  prince  saw  only  the  distant 
manner  with  which  Victoire  began  to  treat  Guise 
whenever  she  met  him  at  court.  Montpensier  was 
immensely  gratified  by  this,  and  all  his  suspicion  was 
speedily  disarmed.  Chabanes,  however,  being  more 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  Victoire's  fondness  for 
the  young  duke,  could  not  restrain  a  feeling  of  vague 
mistrust  at  her  sudden  change  of  course  in  regard  to 
him. 

Early  in  October,  in  view  of  his  coming  marriage 
with  Elizabeth  of  Austria,  the  king  gave  a  grand  ball 
at  the  Louvre.  The  old  palace  was  brilliantly  lighted, 
and  thronged  with  gaily  dressed  courtiers  and  pages. 
The  Princesse  de  Montpensier  took  part  in  a  ballet 
in  which  danced  all  the  beauties  of  the  court,  includ- 
ing Marguerite  de  Valois.  The  Due  d'Anjou  led  an 
"  Entree  of  Moors,"  in  which  participated  the  Due  de 
Guise  and  four  other  gentlemen.  As  was  customary, 
the  six  men  were  all  apparelled  exactly  alike,  in 
black  velvet  doublets,  black  silk  hose,  and  dark 
cloaks.  Each  of  them  also  wore  a  black  mask.  The 
Comte  de  Chabanes,  pleading  as  an  excuse  his  recent 
illness  and  incomplete  recovery  of  strength,  did  not 
take  part  in  any  of  the  dances.  His  pride  in  the 
beauty  and  grace  of  the  princess  was  wonderfully 


A   RUMOR  AND  AN  ERROR  26$ 

gratified  by  the  triumph  she  gained  in  her  part  of 
the  ballet,  which  occurred  before  the  other  dances. 

He  was  congratulating  her  on  her  remarkable 
success  when  the  Due  de  Guise,  who  had  not  yet 
assumed  his  mask,  approached  them.  At  the  same 
moment,  the  king  evincing  a  desire  to  speak  to  him, 
Chabanes  left  Victoire's  side.  When  he  returned  to 
her  a  moment  later  she  was  deeply  agitated  and 
Guise  was  just  moving  away.  The  count  at  once 
observed  that  the  Prince  de  Montpensier,  who  was 
watching  his  wife  from  another  part  of  the  hall,  wore 
an  expression  of  intense  anger.  Evidently  he  was 
incensed  at  the  princess'  having  allowed  Guise  to 
speak  to  her  alone.  A  few  moments  later  the  count 
excused  himself  and  crossed  to  where  the  prince 
stood,  with  the  intention  of  calming  the  latter's  ap- 
prehensions, if  opportunity  offered. 

Victoire,  who  was  for  a  moment  left  alone,  saw  the 
Due  d'Anjou  approaching.  Being  in  the  same  cos- 
tume as  that  worn  by  Guise  and  masked,  she  mistook 
Anjou  for  the  former,  and,  taking  advantage  of  a 
moment  when  the  prince  had  turned  his  back,  she 
beckoned  Monsieur  to  her.  Delighted  at  the  favor 
of  her  notice,  Anjou  was  instantly  at  her  side. 

"  Have  eyes  only  for  Madame  to-night,"  whispered 
Victoire,  who  had  noted  her  husband's  angry  coun- 
tenance, as  she  supposed,  to  Guise,  but  instead  to 
Anjou ;  "  I  shall  not  be  in  the  least  jealous.  I 
am  being  watched,  and  you  must  not  approach  me 
again." 

Anjou,  stunned  by  this  unexpected  remark,  moved 
away  in  amazement.  "What  does  she  mean?"  he 


264  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

asked  himself.  "Per  ma  ft !  I  have  a  successful 
rival,  then ;  and  beyond  a  doubt,  it  is  Guise  !  It  is 
he,  then,  that  has  won  the  affections  of  the  lady  I 
have  so  hopelessly  pursued.  He  is  to  have  eyes  only 
for  Madame,  and  still  not  incur  her  jealousy.  So  M. 
de  Guise  has  bought  the  affections  of  Mme.  la  Prin- 
cesse,  and  my  sister,  Marguerite  de  Valois,  is  the 
price  he  has  paid !  The  king  shall  know  of  this." 

The  moment  for  the  "  Entree  of  Moors "  had 
arrived,  and  Anjou  was  compelled  to  take  his  place 
at  the  head  of  his  assistants.  Chabanes,  who  had 
observed  the  princess  speaking  to  Anjou,  watched  the 
latter  narrowly.  He  was  astonished  to  see,  as  indeed 
was  every  one  else,  that  the  duke,  in  contrast  with  his 
usual  grace  and  agility,  performed  the  dance  with  the 
utmost  awkwardness,  continually  losing  step,  and  in 
many  other  ways  marring  the  beauty  of  the  exercise. 
The  count  at  once  connected  in  his  mind  the  words 
Victoire  had  spoken  to  Anjou  with  the  remarkable 
manner  in  which  Monsieur  led  the  ballet.  He  was 
filled  with  a  vague  feeling  of  uneasiness,  and  he  de- 
termined to  seek  the  princess  and  ask  what  she  had 
said  to  Monsieur.  Victoire,  however,  had  retired  to 
change  her  costume  and  Chabanes  was  unable  to 
find  her. 

The  hall  being  crowded  and  the  windows  hermeti- 
cally closed,  the  atmosphere  was  becoming  stifling. 
Chabanes  withdrew  to  a  small  curtained  alcove  and 
opened  a  window  that  looked  out  on  the  courtyard, 
determined  to  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air.  He  had 
scarcely  done  so  when  he  heard  voices  without  and 
he  saw,  through  an  opening  between  two  curtains, 


A   RUMOR  AND  AN  ERROR  26$ 

the  Due  de  Guise  and  Monsieur,  both  unmasked, 
walking  slowly  toward  him  and  conversing  heatedly. 
That  portion  of  the  hall  was  deserted  and  the  two 
young  men  had  raised  their  voices  so  that  the  count 
could  distinctly  hear  what  they  were  saying. 

"  It  is  too  much,  Monsieur !  "  angrily  exclaimed 
Anjou.  "  You  have  not  only  dared  raise  your  eyes 
to  my  sister,  but  you  have  bought,  at  the  sacrifice  of 
her,  the  affections  of  Mme.  de  Montpensier.  Con- 
sideration for  the  king,  my  brother,  forbids  me  to 
instantly  wreak  my  vengeance  on  you  for  this  insult. 
Remember,  however,  that  the  loss  of  your  life  will  be, 
perhaps,  the  least  punishment  I  shall  inflict  on  your 
temerity !  " 

"  Monsieur,"  replied  Guise,  haughtily,  "  you  forget 
yourself  to  thus  address  the  grandson  of  Louis  XII. 
Take  care  lest  I  make  you  digest  your  spleen." 

"  And  do  you  expect  me  to  swallow  your  threats, 
Monsieur?"  demanded  Anjou,  beside  himself  with 
rage.  "  Take  that,  hound  !  "  and  he  struck  Guise  full 
in  the  face  with  his  glove. 

The  latter  colored  furiously.  "  You  will  doubtless 
adopt  the  cowardly  subterfuge  that,  being  the  king's 
brother,  you  cannot  fight  me,"  hissed  Guise,  making 
a  violent  effort  to  control  himself. 

"  On  the  contrary.  I  will  belittle  myself  by  cross- 
ing swords  with  you  this  night,  and,  before  I  have 
finished  with  you,  you  will  have  fully  atoned  for  your 
insolence." 

Guise  had  partially  regained  his  composure.  "  I 
have  a  vacant  house  in  the  Rue  Saint-Denis  that  you 
know ;  I  will  meet  you  there  alone,  with  sword  and 


266  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

dagger,  at  midnight,"  he  said,  his  eyes  gleaming  with 
suppressed  hatred. 

"  Agreed,"  replied  Anjou,  grimly,  and,  turning  on 
his  heel,  he  walked  to  the  other  side  of  the  hall,  mak- 
ing a  strong  effort  to  conceal  his  emotion.  Guise  at 
once  left  the  hall  in  an  opposite  direction. 


XXIV 

A   DUEL   AND   AN   INTERRUPTION 

AT  the  first  words  he  had  heard  Anjou  utter  as 
Monsieur  approached  with  Guise,  the  Comte 
de  Chabanes  was  petrified  with  horror.  He  could 
scarcely  believe  his  senses  when  they  exhibited  to 
him  the  two  greatest  princes  in  France  quarrelling 
in  deadly  hatred  over  the  woman  he  loved,  and  who 
he  was  positive  had  not  given  either  the  least  grounds 
for  a  claim  on  her  affections.  His  first  impulse  was 
to  spring  forth,  denounce  them  both  as  unprincipled 
liars,  and  cast  his  gloves  in  their  faces.  The  utter 
ruin  in  which  such  a  course  would  involve,  not  only 
himself,  but  his  friends,  restrained  him.  He  heard 
without  listening  the  remainder  of  the  dialogue,  which 
seemed  more  like  a  hallucination  than  a  reality.  His 
love  for  Victoire  prompted  him  at  once  to  view  the 
affair  from  her  standpoint,  and  he  saw  that  the  pro- 
posed duel  between  the  dukes  would  result  in  disaster, 
not  only  to  the  reputation  of  his  heart's  mistress,  but 
to  the  happiness  of  his  friend.  He  at  once  resolved 
to  prevent  the  affair  at  any  cost. 

When  the  dukes  had  both  departed  he  came  out  of 
the  alcove  and  he  managed  to  leave  the  hall  without 
being  observed.  As  he  rushed  down  the  corridor  he 
was  stopped  by  Antoinette. 


268     •  A  PS1RFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  M.  de  Chabanes,"  she  cried,  in  extreme  agitation, 
"  I  have  just  seen  the  Due  de  Guise.  He  told  me  to 
go  at  once  to  Mme.  de  Montpensier  and  tell  her  that 
he  was  about  to  fight  with  the  Due  d'Anjou  and  to 
assure  her  of  his  eternal  devotion.  What  does  he 
mean,  M.  le  Comte?" 

"  He  means,  Antoinette,"  said  Chabanes,  as  he 
hastened  past  her,  "  that  there  are  strange  adven- 
tures on  hand  to-night.  Speak  of  them  to  none 
except  to  give  your  mistress  the  reassurance  of  my 
fidelity." 

The  Due  d'Anjou,  on  leaving  Guise,  at  once  ascer- 
tained the  time.  It  was  an  hour  before  midnight. 
He  had  started  to  his  apartments  when  he  encoun- 
tered Victoire,  radiant  in  a  new  costume  and  anxious 
to  participate  in  the  remainder  of  the  festivities.  A 
sudden  inspiration  possessed  Monsieur,  and  he  ap- 
proached the  princess  deferentially. 

"Will  you  grant  me  a  moment's  audience,  Prin- 
cess?" he  asked,  imploringly. 

"  With  pleasure,  Monsieur,"  replied  Victoire,  lightly. 
"  Is  it  some  affair  of  state  that  you  desire  to  discuss 
with  me?  " 

"  It  is  still  more  serious,  Madame ;  it  is  an  affair  of 
the  heart,  and  also  of  the  sword." 

Victoire  pouted  enchantingly.  "  I  am  sick  of  these 
affairs  of  the  heart,  Monsieur,"  she  replied ;  "  please 
make  your  story  as  interesting  as  possible." 

Naturally  Anjou  did  not  enter  into  her  spirit  of 
humor.  "  Madame,"  he  said,  sadly,  "  I  cannot  but 
feel  it  my  duty  to  inform  you  that  the  Due  de  Guise 
does  not  merit  that  you  favor  him  to  my  prejudice. 


A   DUEL  AND  AN  INTERRUPTION  269 

Do  not  interrupt  me,  I  beg  of  you,  to  contradict  a 
truth  of  which  I  am  only  too  positive.  He  is  deceiv- 
ing you,  Madame,  and  he  sacrifices  you  to  my  sister 
as  he  sacrifices  her  to  you.  He  is  a  man  capable  only 
of  ambition.  Of  course,  since  he  has  pleased  you,  I 
suppose  I  ought  not  to  speak  to  you  of  him.  But  I 
cannot  leave  you,  to  go,  possibly,  to  my  death,  with- 
out first  giving  you  these  words  of  warning.  Believe 
me,  I  shall  never  oppose  a  fortune  which  I  shall 
always  believe  I  merited  more  than  he.  It  is  already 
too  much  to  have  been  able  to  attract  only  your  in- 
difference. I  do  not  wish  it  to  be  succeeded  by 
hatred  through  my  importuning  you  further  with  the 
most  faithful  passion  that  has  ever  existed." 

Monsieur  hesitated  as  though  he  could  no  longer 
find  the  words  he  would  use.  Victoire,  filled  with 
amazement  and  grief,  was  astonished  to  see  that  his 
eyes  were  full  of  tears,  so  great  was  the  emotional 
strain  under  which  he  labored.  She  had  no  oppor- 
tunity to  reply,  as  Monsieur  at  once  left  her  and 
retired  to  his  apartments. 

After  her  wonder  had  passed,  Victoire's  first  feeling 
was  one  of  intense  indignation  against  Guise,  who,  she 
was  convinced,  had  been  false  to  her  in  relating  to 
Monsieur  her  interest  in  him.  And  how  he  must 
have  exaggerated  it !  How  many  others  thus  shared 
the  confidence  of  M.  de  Guise?  How  soon  would 
reports  of  her  relations  with  him  become  common 
throughout  the  court?  What  would  Raoul  and  her 
husband  do  when  they  heard  of  these  confidences  of 
M.  de  Guise? 

She  did  not  enter  the  hall,  but  returned  in  grief  to 


2/0  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

her  chamber.  There  she  found  Antoinette  in  great 
agitation. 

"  Madame !  "  cried  the  maid.  "  What  has  hap- 
pened to-night?" 

"  In  truth,  I  know  not,  Antoinette,"  replied  Vic- 
toire,  sadly.  "  I  only  fear.  But  why  are  you  so 
nervous?" 

"A  half-hour  ago  I  met  M.  de  Guise  in  the  cor- 
ridor. He  was  about  to  leave  the  Louvre  and  he 
stopped  me,  saying,  'Tell  your  mistress  that  I  am 
about  to  fight  with  the  Due  d'Anjou,  and  assure 
her  of  my  eternal  devotion.'" 

"  Ah,  the  wretch !  "  thought  Victoire.  "  He  has 
regretted  letting  Monsieur  into  his  confidence,  and 
thinks  to  regain  my  favor  by  fighting  a  duel  that 
will,  instead,  plunge  us  all  into  ruin !  " 

"  And  I  also  met  M.  de  Chabanes,"  continued  the 
maid,  excitedly.  "  He  too  was  leaving  the  Louvre, 
and  when  I  related  to  him  what  M.  de  Guise  had 
just  said  and  asked  him  what  it  all  meant,  he  replied : 
'  It  means  that  there  are  strange  adventures  on  hand 
to-night ;  speak  of  them  to  none  except  to  give  your 
mistress  the  reassurance  of  my  fidelity.'  " 

"  Faithful  Raoul !  "  exclaimed  Victoire.  "  He,  too, 
fears  something.  He  is  working  for  my  inter- 
ests. Heaven  help  him  to  avert  the  threatened 
disaster ! " 

Through  the  open  window  they  heard  the  watch- 
man in  the  tower  of  Saint-Germain  1'Auxerrois  call 
the  hour  of  midnight. 

"  Come,  Antoinette,"  cried  Victoire,  tortured  by  a 
thousand  conflicting  fears  and  emotions ;  "  let  us 


A  DUEL   AND  AN  INTERRUPTION  2JI 

seek  the  convent  of  Sainte  Catherine.  My  heart  is 
bursting !  " 

The  two  women  hastily  wrapped  themselves  in 
their  cloaks  and  left  the  Louvre.  At  the  request 
of  the  princess,  a  detachment  of  the  night  watch 
accompanied  them  to  the  convent. 

At  midnight  the  Due  d'Anjou  had  entered  the 
house  in  the  Rue  Saint  Denis  that  Guise  had  indi- 
cated. He  had  perceived  from  without  a  light  burn- 
ing in  a  window  of  the  second  story,  so  he  at  once 
mounted  the  stairs  and  entered  the  room  whence 
emanated  this  light.  The  Due  de  Guise,  seated 
before  a  table,  on  which  were  placed  his  sword  and 
dagger,  awaited  him. 

"  You  are  punctual,  Monsieur,"  said  Guise,  rising 
and  bowing  ceremoniously. 

Anjou  stiffly  returned  the  salute,  threw  off  his 
cloak,  and,  unbuckling  his  sword,  laid  it  across  the 
table  beside  that  of  Guise. 

"  As  you  have  doubtless  reflected,  Monsieur,"  said 
he,  coolly,  "  the  news  of  this  affair  will  result  in  much 
excitement  throughout  France.  The  details  of  it 
will  be  variously  reported.  Let  me  beg  of  you,  in 
case  I  may  prove  the  unsuccessful  party  to  the 
meeting,  that  you  will  express  on  my  behalf  my 
perfect  confidence  in  the  fairness  of  my  opponent." 

"  I  was  about  to  make  the  same  request  of  you, 
Monsieur,"  replied  Guise,  who  was  unable  to  deter- 
mine whether  Anjou  spoke  sarcastically ;  "  I  shall 
be  honored  by  the  fulfilment  of  your  desire." 

"  And  I  also  will  deem  the  pleasure  entirely  mine," 
replied  Monsieur,  and  this  time  Guise  could  not  mis- 


2/2  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

take  the  ironical  leer  that  spread  over  his  antagonist's 
face. 

Guise  made  no  reply,  significantly  taking  his  sword 
and  dagger  from  the  table,  after  rolling  back  his  lace 
cuffs.  Anjou  at  once  followed  his  example  and  the 
two  men,  facing  each  other  and  bowing  simultane- 
ously, crossed  their  weapons. 

There  could  scarcely  have  been  found  in  all 
France  two  men  better  matched  for  endurance  and 
skill  in  the  handling  of  the  rapier.  Each  fenced 
cautiously  at  first,  feeling  for  the  other's  weaknesses 
and  memorizing  them  for  use  in  a  future  stage  of 
the  combat.  A  dozen  candles  shed  their  feeble 
rays  on  the  scene,  a  large  room  with  a  bare  wooden 
floor  and  walls  hung  with  dingy  tapestries.  A  nar- 
row gallery  around  the  upper  part  of  the  chamber 
gave  it  a  semblance  of  unusual  height.  At  one  end 
of  the  room  a  door  scarcely  visible  through  the 
upper  gloom  opened  on  this  gallery.  This  door 
led  to  a  small  balcony  that  hung  near  the  roof  of 
the  building. 

Guise  allowed  his  antagonist  to  take  the  offen- 
sive, contenting  himself  with  parrying  the  dangerous 
thrusts  and  mentally  noting  the  limits  of  Anjou's 
versatility  as  a  swordsman.  When  he  had  done  this 
he  felt  that  he  possessed  the  advantage,  if,  indeed, 
advantage  there  was.  Anjou  attacked  dexterously 
and  with  excellent  address.  He  saw  at  once  his 
inability  to  break  down  the  guard  that  Guise  pre- 
sented, and  he  resolved  to  rely  on  his  skill  to  pene- 
trate it.  For  some  moments  neither  of  the  men 
brought  his  dagger  into  play.  At  length  Monsieur 


A   DUEL  AND  AN  INTERRUPTION  2/3 

cut  viciously  with  his  "foi  de  gentilhomme"  as  the 
smaller  weapon  was  termed,  having  executed  a 
quarte  de  pied  that  momentarily  impaired  the  use- 
fulness of  Guise's  sword.  .  The  latter  was  wait- 
ing for  the  dagger  and  he  deftly  turned  its  point 
with  his  own,  at  the  same  time,  with  a  well  calcu- 
lated feint,  pressing  Monsieur  to  retreat  a  step. 

"  A  poisoned  weapon  would  offer  a  great  advan- 
tage to  either  of  us,  Monsieur,"  suggested  Guise, 
his  eyes  gleaming  ominously  from  beneath  his  con- 
tracted brows. 

Anjou  looked  questioningly  at  his  antagonist. 
"  Let  us  trust  that  both  of  us  have  to  this  moment 
forgotten  that  fact,"  he  said,  lightly. 

"  Rene",  the  Florentine  perfumer,  is  said  to  be  very 
skilful  in  the  poisoning  of  dagger-points,"  insinuated 
Guise.  It  was  evident  to  Monsieur  that  his  rival 
desired  to  anger  him. 

"  Indeed  ? "  said  Anjou,  slightly  raising  his  eye- 
brows. 

"  Rene  is  also  the  devoted  servant  of  the  queen- 
mother,"  continued  Guise,  in  the  same  tone ;  "  it 
would  have  been  a  simple  matter  for  Monsieur 
to  have  unwittingly  taken  one  of  her  Majesty's 
weapons." 

"  Doubtless,"  replied  Anjou,  laconically.  He  had 
set  about  recovering  his  ground,  which  he  did  with 
so  fierce  an  onslaught  that  Guise  was  forced  to  drop 
conversation  and  exert  every  faculty  in  his  own 
defence.  The  tide  of  conflict  then  turned,  Guise 
becoming  the  aggressor,  and  Monsieur  was  given 
an  opportunity  to  demonstrate  his  skill  in  parrying 

18 


2/4  A   PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

the  thrusts  and  lunges  with  which  Guise  attempted 
to  overwhelm  him.  All  at  once  Guise  slipped, 
staggered,  and,  in  recovering  himself,  lowered  his 
guard.  Monsieur's  point  was  at  his  chest  and 
Guise's  dagger  was  on  the  floor.  A  trifling  pres- 
sure and  the  head  of  the  house  of  Guise  would 
be  pinned  to  the  floor,  and  Henri  d'Anjou  was  not 
the  one  to  relent  at  such  a  moment.  All  this 
instantly  flashed  before  the  mind  of  Guise.  He 
knew  that  he  was  about  to  fall. 

In  the  same  instant  the  noise  of  some  one  pounding 
violently  on  the  outer  door  was  heard.  Anjou  started 
and  lost  his  advantage.  Guise,  with  the  rapidity  of  a 
lightning-flash,  recovered  his  dagger  and  stood  on  his 
guard,  smiling  triumphantly.  Anjou  gritted  his  teeth 
and  renewed  the  attack.  The  pounding  below,  re- 
ceiving no  response,  soon  ceased. 

This  time  Guise  was  compelled  to  retreat  a 
step.  Anjou's  point"  played  dangerously  near  the 
other's  face  —  so  close  at  one  time  that  Monsieur 
imagined  he  saw  blood  start  from  his  antagonist's 
forehead. 

"  A  hit !  "  he  exclaimed,  maliciously. 

"  Not  quite,"  answered  Guise,  calmly. 

Anjou  redoubled  his  efforts ;  Guise  noted  this  with 
a  smile.  Monsieur  would  soon  tire  himself.  Indeed, 
Monsieur  himself  began  to  realize  this.  He  gradu- 
ally moderated  the  vehemence  of  his  attack,  and,  as 
gradually,  Guise  again  became  the  aggressor. 

However,  Guise  was  unfortunate;  he  slipped  again. 
This  time  he  dropped  his  sword  in  attempting  to 
recover  his  equilibrium,  and  Anjou's  point  again 


AT  THAT   POINT  THE   DOOR   ON   THE   GALLERY   OPENED 


A   DUEL  AND  AN  INTERRUPTION  2?$ 

sought  his  rival's  chest.  Guise  uttered  a  sigh  of 
resignation  to  his  fate. 

At  that  moment  a  noise  was  heard  above,  the  door 
on  the  gallery  opened,  and  a  man  appeared  outlined 
against  a  background  of  yellow  moonlight. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  calmly,  "  will  you  do  me 
the  honor  of  desisting  for  a  moment?  " 

Anjou,  with  a  curse,  dropped  his  blade,  and  both 
turned  to  stare  with  astonishment  at  their  unexpected 
interrupter.  It  was  the  Comte  de  Chabanes. 

"  Really,  M.  le  Comte,"  replied  Guise,  laughingly, 
"the  honor  is  most  agreeable  to  me.  I  had  awk- 
wardly dropped  my  sword  and  was  about  to  receive 
the  point  of  Monsieur's  when  you  spoke." 

Chabanes  had  walked  around  the  gallery  to  a  small 
staircase  on  one  side  and  had  descended  to  where  the 
men  stood.  Anjou  was  not  disposed  to  regard  the 
advent  of  the  count  as  cheerfully  as  was  Guise.  He 
felt  that  he  had  been  twice  cheated  of  an  advantage 
that  would  have  ended  the  duel  in  his  favor. 

"  By  what  right,  Monsieur,"  he  asked,  coldly, 
"  do  you  interrupt  an  affair  in  which  you  have  no 
concern?" 

"  The  right  of  a  loyal  subject  of  his  Majesty  the 
King  of  France,  Monseigneur,"  replied  Chabanes, 
calmly  folding  his  arms. 

"Whose  representative  you  are,  no  doubt,"  said 
Guise,  with  a  sneer. 

"  Whose  representative  every  true  gentleman  should 
always  constitute  himself.  The  king  has  forbidden 
duelling.  Is  this  a  praiseworthy  example  that  you 
set  his  subjects,  Monsieur?"  he  asked,  turning  to 


2/6  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Anjou,  who  was  writhing  in  anger  at  such  an  affront 
thus  offered  to  the  first  prince  of  the  realm. 

"  I  warn  you,  Monsieur,"  Anjou  cried,  with  a 
threatening  motion  of  his  sword,  "  that  you  shall  pay 
dearly  for  this  insolence." 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,  Monsieur,"  replied  Chabanes, 
firmly  and  without  unfolding  his  arms.  "  I  shall  at 
least  have  done  my  duty  to  my  king." 

"  But  do  me  the  honor,  first  of  all,"  broke  in  Guise, 
"  of  telling  me  how  the  devil  you  happened  here  at 
this  time." 

"Simply  enough,  Monsieur;  I  was  unwittingly 
caused  to  overhear  the  conversation  that  passed 
between  you  two  gentlemen  immediately  after  the 
'  Entree  of  Moors '  to-night.  Later  I  learned  from  a 
servant  the  direction  in  which  you  had  both  gone 
after  leaving  the  Louvre.  I  was  in  search  of  a 
deserted  house  where  a  duel  was  being  fought,  and  I 
was  for  some  time  unsuccessful.  At  length  chance 
led  me  here ;  I  saw  the  light  above  and  heard  the 
ring  of  the  crossing  swords.  I  knocked  below  and 
received  no  answer.  I  tried  other  means  of  ingress 
without  avail.  I  at  length  discovered  the  little 
balcony  above,  and,  by  the  aid  of  the  large  tree  whose 
branches  overhang  the  roof,  I  was  able  to  enter  the 
house,  as  you  have  seen." 

"  And  your  purpose  in  coming  here  was  — ?  "  asked 
Guise,  amazed  at  Chabanes'  coolness. 

"  To  prevent  this  duel." 

"  Let  me  inform  you,  then,  Monsieur,"  said  Anjou, 
consumed  with  rage,  "  that  you  will  fail  in  your  pur- 
pose. I  warn  you,  on  penalty  of  your  life,  not  to 


A  DUEL  AND  AN  INTERRUPTION  2/7 

interfere.  Come,  Monsieur,"  he  added,  to  Guise, 
"  we  are  losing  time." 

The  swords  of  the  two  antagonists  crossed  and  rang. 
At  the  same  time  Chabanes'  sword  flashed  from  its 
scabbard  and  knocked  up  the  other  two  with  such 
force  that  that  of  Anjou  flew  from  his  grasp  into  a 
corner  of  the  room.  The  count  quietly  sheathed  his 
own  blade,  recovered  that  of  Monsieur,  and,  after  pre- 
senting it  to  him,  he  took  up  the  conversation. 

"  Gentlemen,  it  is  incredible  that  the  two  greatest 
princes  of  the  kingdom  should  simultaneously  violate 
his  Majesty's  strict  ordinance.  At  least  grant  me  that 
one  of  you  shall  not  be  guilty  of  this.  I  am  more 
willing  to  take  on  myself  the  odium  of  the  offence, 
for  it  will  rest  more  easily  on  the  shoulders  of  an  ob- 
scure gentleman  like  myself  than  on  those  of  the 
king's  brother  or  ally.  M.  de  Guise  once  before  did 
me  the  honor  of  crossing  swords  with  me;  dare  I 
hope  he  will  repeat  it?  " 

"  Monsieur,"  replied  Guise,  "  do  you  realize  the 
enormity  of  the  insult  you  offer  us  in  thus  playing 
with  us?  You  have  a  motive  for  preventing  this  duel ; 
tell  us  what  it  is." 

"  It  is  simply  this,  Messieurs :  you  are  fighting  be- 
cause one  of  you  is  supposed  to  be  in  the  greater  favor 
with  a  certain  lady,  and  because  one  of  you  believes 
the  other  guilty  of  dishonorable  behavior  toward  an- 
other lady.  It  is  a  matter  of  honor ;  there  has  been 
an  impulsive  insult  offered,  and  redress  must  be  had, 
even  though  that  redress  mean  a  mighty  change  in 
the  history  of  France,  which  is  to  say,  in  the  history 
of  the  world.  The  position  that  each  of  you  occupies, 


2/8  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

moreover,  will  cause  this  duel  to  be  known  wherever 
civilization  exists.  The  cause  of  the  duel  will  also  be 
learned.  The  reputations  of  two  women  will  be 
sacrificed  in  the  general  ruin  this  affair  will  cause. 
This  is  an  affair  of  honor.  Redress  must  be  had,  even 
at  the  price  of  women's  reputations,  empires'  safety, 
and  law's  sanctity.  However,  I  beg  you  to  under- 
stand, this  redress  will  be  gained  to-night  over  the 
dead  body  of  the  Comte  de  Chabanes." 

Both  Anjou  and  Guise  recoiled  under  the  sting  of 
Chabanes'  sarcastic  rebuke.  They  could  not  but 
admit  that  he  was  in  the  right,  that  they  had  ruth- 
lessly forgotten,  both  of  them,  the  reputation  of  the 
woman  they  claimed  to  love  above  all  things,  to  say 
nothing  of  that  of  the  sister  of  their  king.  However, 
neither  of  them  had  ever  been  greatly  given  to  the 
preservation  of  trifles  like  women's  reputations. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  Guise,  whose  anger  had  cooled, 
to  Anjou,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  "  M.  de 
Chabanes  doubtless  speaks  the  truth.  There  is  too 
much  at  stake  besides  our  own  desire  for  satisfaction. 
We  cannot  fight." 

He  announced  this  conclusion  proudly,  not  desiring 
to  appear  less  chivalrous  than  Chabanes,  and  in  the 
full  confidence  that  his  rival  dared  not  accuse  him  of 
cowardice. 

"  As  you  will,"  replied  Anjou,  morosely,  petulantly 
throwing  his  cloak  over  his  shoulders  and  leaving  the 
house. 

"Monsieur,"  continued  Guise,  with  simulated 
respect,  to  Chabanes,  "allow  me  the  honor  of  con- 
gratulating you  as  a  man  of  true  gallantry." 


A   DUEL  AND  AN  INTERRUPTION  2/9 

The  count  grasped  Guise's  proffered  hand.  "  Per- 
mit me,"  he  said,  with  a  simple  dignity  that  concealed 
his  lack  of  faith  in  the  duke's  sincerity,  "  to  felicitate 
you  on  your  prompt  recognition  of  the  demands  of 
the  situation." 

Later  that  night  Anjou,  who  was  in  a  frightful 
humor,  awakened  his  favorite,  Guast. 

"  It  is  not  Chabanes  that  she  loves,"  he  said,  signi- 
ficantly ;  "  it  is  Guise.  Chabanes  loves  her." 

"  And  in  that  case  ?  "  asked  the  favorite. 

"  I  still  believe  Chabanes  must  be  removed." 

"  Then  so  do  I,"  muttered  Guast,  returning  to  his 
slumbers. 

As  for  Guise,  when  he  returned  home,  he  ordered 
his  valet  to  bring  him  a  kitten,  which  small  animal  he 
scratched  lightly  with  the  point  of  Anjou's  dagger, 
which  he  had  purposely  taken  instead  of  his  own ;  a 
few  minutes  later  he  watched  the  diminutive  creature 
writhe  in  the  agony  of  a  spasmodic  death. 

"  As  I  thought,"  he  muttered,  with  an  evil  smile ; 
"  poisoned.  Let  us  hope  Monsieur  will  not  similarly 
test  my  own  weapon  !  " 

In  the  convent  of  the  sisters  of  Sainte  Catherine, 
Victoire  and  Antoinette  waited  an  interminable  hour, 
momentarily  expecting  to  hear  criers  without  shout- 
ing the  news  of  the  duel.  At  last  Victoire,  in  desper- 
ation, ordered  the  maid  to  go  out  in  the  street  and 
try  to  learn  something  of  what  had  occurred.  Antoi- 
nette had  scarcely  run  a  block  when  she  met  the 
Comte  de  Chabanes  emerging  from  a  deserted  house. 

"What  news,  Monsieur?"  she  cried,  in  breathless 
eagerness. 


280  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  All  is  well,"  replied  the  count,  absently.  He  was 
wondering  what  grounds  Anjou  could  have  for  his 
assertion  that  Guise  was  favored  by  the  princess. 
"  Tell  your  mistress  that  there  will  be  no  duel." 

Antoinette  darted  back  to  the  convent,  while 
Chabanes  mounted  the  street  toward  the  Louvre. 

As  the  maid  entered  the  room  in  which  she  had 
left  her  mistress,  Victoire  lay  across  the  bed  with  her 
eyes  closed.  Antoinette  walked  on  tiptoe,  believing 
her  mistress  asleep  and  realizing  the  great  value  of 
rest  to  the  tired  mind  and  body.  Victoire,  however, 
was  wide-awake.  Springing  to  her  feet,  she  cried 
eagerly,  "What  has  happened,  Anne?" 

"  I  met  M.  de  Chabanes  himself.  He  said  '  All  is 
well ;  tell  your  mistress  there  will  be  no  duel/  "  replied 
the  maid,  as  soon  as  she  could  recover  her  breath. 

"  Thank  God  !  "  cried  Victoire,  falling  back  on  the 
bed  exhausted. 

"  Thank  God ! "  repeated  Antoinette,  crossing 
herself. 

"  And  Raoul !  "  added  the  princess,  mentally.  "  Ah, 
Raoul,  how  can  I  ever  thank  you  enough  !  " 


XXV 

A  FALSEHOOD  AND  ANOTHER 

ON  the  following  evening  Victoire  supped  with  her 
mother-in-law,  the  duchess,  at  the  H6tel  de 
Guise.  The  Due  de  Guise  followed  the  princess 
thither,  and,  an  opportunity  offering,  he  attempted  to 
speak  with  her  alone. 

"  Madame,"  he  began,  in  his  usual  tone  of  simulated 
respect,  "  it  pains  me  deeply  to  be  compelled  to 
inform  you  of  what  Monsieur  and  I  were  speaking 
at  the  ballet  last  night." 

Victoire  interrupted  him.  "M.  de  Guise,"  she  said, 
with  great  indignation,  "  I  marvel  at  your  audacity  in 
addressing  me.  I  had  thought  you  the  soul  of  honor, 
and  I  find  you  one  of  the  most  despicable  men  in  the 
world.  You  will  favor  me  by  never  addressing  me 
again,  either  in  public  or  in  private." 

Guise,  surprised  by  these  words,  that  indicated  some 
new  distrust  for  which  he  was  at  a  loss  to  account, 
begged  an  explanation. 

"  I  mean  what  I  say,"  continued  Victoire,  in  the 
same  tone.  "  I  can  listen  to  nothing  from  you." 

"  Very  well,  Madame,"  returned  the  duke,  impul- 
sively, "you  shall  be  satisfied.  I  am  going  to  do 
that  which  the  king  himself  could  not  have  required 
of  me.  It  will  cost  me  my  fortune,  but  that  is  nothing 
when  your  gratification  is  in  question." 


282  A   PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

He  hastily  left  the  h6tel,  believing  that  Victoire 
had  heard  fresh  rumors  concerning  himself  and  Mar- 
guerite. He  had  not  the  faintest  idea  of  carrying  into 
effect  the  threat  he  had  just  made,  but  Fate  was 
against  him,  as  he  soon  learned,  —  his  statement 
proved  prophetic. 

He  proceeded  at  once  to  the  Louvre,  where  the 
king  was  giving  another  ball,  and,  on  entering  the 
hall,  came  face  to  face  with  his  sovereign,  who  was 
conversing  with  several  gentlemen.  Charles  IX. 
glanced  contemptuously  at  the  duke. 

"  Well,  Monseigneur,"  he  said,  imperiously, "  where 
are  you  going?" 

"  Sire,"  replied  Guise,  humbly,  "  I  am  here  to  offer 
my  services  to  your  gracious  Majesty." 

"  Then  you  may  as  well  depart,"  rejoined  the  king. 
"  I  have  no  need  of  your  services." 

Guise  bowed  profoundly,  but  prudently  made  no 
reply.  He  withdrew  from  the  hall  and  had  scarcely 
gone  twenty  paces  when  a  page  slipped  a  bit  of 
paper  into  his  hand  and  darted  past.  Guise  carried 
the  paper  to  the  nearest  candelabrum.  It  was  a  note 
in  the  handwriting  of  Marguerite  de  Valois. 

"  M.  de  Guise,  if  he  wishes  to  preserve  his  life,  must  im- 
mediately fly  from  court.  He  must  not  go  out  by  the 
usual  corridor,  as  Monsieur  awaits  him  there  to  assassinate 
him.  The  grand  prior  of  France  has  been  instructed  to 
kill  M.  de  Guise  on  sight." 

The  duke  at  once  turned  and  left  the  Louvre  by 
a  door  other  than  that  by  which  he  usually  departed. 
A  half-hour  later  he  was  with  his  uncle,  the  Cardinal 


A   FALSEHOOD  AND  ANOTHER  283 

de  Lorraine.  He  detailed  to  him  what  had  just 
occurred  at  the  palace,  and  acquainted  him  with 
a  project  to  espouse  at  once  the  Princesse  de  Porcien. 
The  cardinal  reluctantly  agreed,  seeing  no  other  way 
for  his  nephew  to  escape  the  royal  wrath,  as  his 
Majesty  evidently  saw  that  Guise  still  aspired  to  the 
hand  of  Marguerite  de  Valois.  Shortly  after,  Guise 
sought  his  mother  the  Duchesse  de  Nemours,  at  her 
h6tel.  She  at  once  sent  for  Catherine  de  Cleves, 
Princesse  de  Porcien,  sister  of  her  who  was  engaged 
to  the  young  Prince  de  Conde,  and  widow  of  a  noted 
Huguenot,  who,  on  his  death-bed,  had  requested  his 
wife  not  to  marry  the  Due  de  Guise.  The  duchess 
explained  her  son's  plight  to  the  Princesse  de  Por- 
cien, asking  the  latter  to  marry  him  at  once  and  so 
save  his  life.  The  princess  agreed ;  in  less  than  six 
hours'  time  the  ceremony  was  performed,  and  the 
bride  and  groom  hastened  to  court,  where  they  were 
received  with  marked  favor  by  all,  including  the  king 
and  Anjou. 

The  morning  after  the  duel  in  the  Rue  Saint-Denis, 
Monsieur  had  sought  an  interview  with  his  brother, 
the  king. 

"  Sire,"  he  said,  adopting  the  tone  of  extreme 
humility  with  which  of  late  he  had  been  accustomed 
to  address  Charles  IX.,  "  I  have  the  honor  of  an- 
nouncing to  you  that  I  have  discovered  the  identity 
of  two  traitors  here  at  court  of  whom  your  Majesty 
were  well  rid." 

"  And  these  traitors,  are  they  not  some  persons 
that  have  become  objectionable  to  you,  Henri," 
asked  the  king,  who  was  caressing  a  large  greyhound 


284  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

that  sat  with  its  nose  in  its  master's  lap,  "  and  whom 
you  take  this  means  of  removing?  " 

"  Sire,"  replied  Monsieur,  as  though  greatly  pained, 
"you  do  me  an  injustice  in  attributing  to  me  such 
motives." 

"  Well,  who  are  they  ?  "  inquired  the  king,  abruptly. 
He  took  little  stock  in  his  brother's  protestations  of 
devotion. 

"  One  of  them  is  none  other  than  M.  de  Guise." 

The  king  glanced  searchingly  at  his  brother.  He 
had  no  great  liking  for  Guise  and  was  quite  ready  to 
distrust  him. 

"  M.  de  Guise,"  continued  Anjou,  seeing  that  he 
had  aroused  the  king's  interest, "  is,  as  you  are  aware, 
inordinately  ambitious,  and  it  is  a  well  known  fact 
throughout  the  court  that  he  aspires  to  the  hand  of 
our  sister  Margot." 

The  king  sprang  to  his  feet  and  began  pacing  the 
floor.  "  I  have  heard  as  much,"  he  muttered.  "  M. 
de  Guise  had  best  look  to  his  life  if  his  ambitions 
carry  him  too  far !  And  what  encouragement  does 
he  receive  from  Marguerite  ?  " 

"  Much,  I  regret  to  inform  you,  Sire." 

"And  you  would  advise  me  in  regard  to  M.  de 
Guise  —  ?  " 

"That  your  Majesty  take  immediate  precautions 
to  rid  himself  of  one  whose  life  daily  becomes  more 
of  a  menace  to  the  state.  Believe  me,  Sire,  you  will 
never  persuade  our  sister  to  consent  to  this  proposed 
marriage  with  the  King  of  Navarre  while  Guise  in- 
fluences her.  She  disgusted  the  ambassadors  of  the 
King  of  Portugal  by  her  open  admiration  of  Guise, 


A   FALSEHOOD  AND  ANOTHER  285 

and  she  will  so  affect  the  Protestants,  when  they 
request  her  marriage  to  their  Bearnais." 

"  More  than  likely  you  are  right,  Henri,"  replied 
the  king,  through  his  clenched  teeth.  At  that 
moment  the  bastard  of  Angoul6me,  Henri,  grand 
prior  of  France,  entered  the  cabinet. 

"  Henri,"  said  the  king,  in  a  burst  of  anger  address- 
ing the  new  arrival,  "do  you  see  those  weapons?  " 
He  pointed  to  two  hunting-knives  that  lay  on  a 
table.  "  Well,  I  swear  to  you  that  one  of  them  shall 
pierce  you,  if  to-morrow  at  the  chase  you  do  not 
with  the  other  kill  the  Due  de  Guise ! " 

"  Sire,"  said  Anjou,  eagerly,  "  if  I  may,  I  will  sug- 
gest an  even  surer  plan." 

"  Out  with  it  then,  Monsieur,"  replied  Charles  IX., 
abruptly. 

"The  Due  de  Guise  will  be  at  the  ball  to-night. 
I  will  lie  in  waiting  as  he  leaves  the  Louvre  and  stab 
him." 

"  Pardieu,  but  you  are  devoted  to  the  extermina- 
tion of  my  foes !  "  said  the  king,  laughing  grimly. 
"  Well,  so  be  it !  " 

"  There  is  still  another,  Sire,"  continued  Anjou, 
elated  with  his  success. 

"  And  this  other  is  —  ?  " 

"  The  Comte  de  Chabanes." 

The  king  again  glanced  sharply  at  his  brother. 
He  was  evidently  displeased  by  this  second  accusa- 
tion. "  And  what,  pray,  is  the  offence  of  M.  de 
Chabanes?"  he  asked,  petulantly. 

"  Sire,  I  know  not  if  he  be  contemplating  any 
treachery  at  present,  but  I  do  know  that  he  plotted 


286  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

against  your  Majesty's  life  on  the  night  he  was 
wounded  in  the  Rue  des  Barres,  whither  your  Majesty 
had  taken  him  as  one  of  your  escort." 

"  It  is  an  ill  plot  that  turns  on  its  maker,"  replied 
the  king,  incredulously. 

"  Yet  chance  will  sometimes  cause  a  plot  to  turn, 
Sire.  M.  de  Chabanes  on  that  occasion,  you  will 
remember,  betrayed  great  reluctance  to  accept  the 
honor  of  accompanying  your  Majesty  to  the  Rue 
des  Barres." 

"  It  is  true,"  admitted  Charles  IX.,  "  he  acquiesced 
only  after  protesting  that  he  had  many  other  duties." 

"  Very  well,  Sire,  his  reluctance  was  the  result  of 
the  fact  that  he  had  already  hired  a  body  of  cut- 
throats to  fall  on  your  Majesty's  gentlemen,  not 
thinking  that  he,  himself,  might  be  one  of  those 
gentlemen." 

"  But  what  motive  had  he  to  plot  against  our  life?  " 
demanded  the  king,  still  unsatisfied. 

"  Your  Majesty  knows  that  he  was  formerly  sus- 
pected of  Huguenot  tendencies,  and  that,  even  now, 
he  is  woefully  irregular  about  going  to  Mass.  Well, 
I-  have  learned  that  he  was  at  that  time  in  league 
with  the  Protestants  and  that  he  was  expecting  to 
turn  the  event  of  your  Majesty's  assassination  to 
account  for  the  heretics." 

"  Nevertheless,"  persisted  the  king,  who  could  not 
but  consider  Chabanes  incapable  of  such  treachery, 
"  we  are  now  at  peace  with  the  Huguenots  and  they 
are  again  our  children.  M.  de  Chabanes  is  no  longer 
dangerous.  Besides,  he  has  reaped  his  own  punish- 
ment in  the  illness  he  suffered," 


A    FALSEHOOD  AND  ANOTHER  287 

"  But,  Sire,  I  protest  to  you  that  I  can  never  feel 
secure  in  regard  to  your  Majesty's  welfare  while 
such  a  man  is  at  liberty." 

"  Nom  de  Dieu  !  "  exclaimed  the  king,  with  grow- 
ing anger.  "What  proof  have  you  against  the 
man?" 

"  The  evidence  of  the  cut-throat  that  was  so  severely 
wounded  that  night  in  the  Rue  des  Barres,  and  whom 
the  Comte  de  Chabanes  hired  to  attack  your  Majesty's 
gentlemen." 

"  Very  well,  bring  me  this  man  and  I  will  consider 
the  matter  further,"  replied  the  king,  with  a  gesture 
of  dismissal,  and  Anjou  retired,  well  satisfied  with 
his  success. 

Angoul£me,  who  had  left  the  king's  cabinet  when 
his  brothers  had  ceased  speaking  of  Guise,  met  Mar- 
guerite in  the  corridor. 

"  And  of  what  have  you  been  conversing  with  the 
king?"  she  demanded  of  him. 

"  Of  that  which  concerns  you  deeply,"  replied  the 
grand  prior  of  France. 

"And  are  you  not  going  to  share  it  with  me, 
then?"  asked  Madame,  alarmed  at  his  words. 

"  I  do  not  know  but  that  I  may,"  responded  Henri, 
pensively.  "  But  first  you  must  give  me  your  solemn 
promise  never  to  reveal  the  name  of  your  informer. 
It  might  be  as  much  as  my  life  is  worth,  were  the 
king  to  know  the  hand  I  had  in  his  affair." 

"  I  promise,"  replied  Madame,  sincerely. 

Thereupon  Angoul£me  related  that  part  of  the 
conversation  between  the  king  and  Monsieur  that  he 
had  just  overheard. 


288  A  PARFIT  GENTIL   KNIGHT 

So  it  was  that  the  Due  de  Guise  was  warned  by 
Marguerite  de  Valois  of  the  danger  that  menaced 
him  at  court.  Madame's  page  sought  the  duke 
unavailingly  until  he  at  last  found  the  latter  in  a  corri- 
dor of  the  Louvre,  in  time  to  save  him  from  the  knife 
of  Anjou. 

One  night  not  long  after  the  occurrence  of  the 
events  just  related,  a  man,  enveloped  in  a  long  black 
mantle,  entered  a  small,  unpretentious  house  that 
fronted  on  the  Rue  Saint  Denis.  This  house  was 
adjacent  to  the  convent  of  the  sisters  of  Sainte 
Catherine,  and  it  was  used  by  them  as  a  sort  of 
hospital  for  the  refuge  of  the  homeless  that  were  ill 
or  wounded.  The  door  was  opened  to  him  by  a  tall, 
queenly  woman,  whose  evident  worldly  experience 
had  left  its  traces  on  her  majestic  countenance,  side 
by  side  with  those  of  an  ardent  and  devoted  life  of 
asceticism.  As  the  man  entered,  another  woman, 
cloaked  in  black,  who  was  leaving  the  place,  hurriedly 
passed  him  and,  entering  a  chair  that  awaited  her 
,in  the  street,  was  borne  away. 

"  The  Due  d'Anjou  !  "  thought  the  woman.  "  What 
can  he  be  doing  here?  " 

"  Mme.  de  Montpensier !  "  muttered  the  man,  in 
his  beard.  "  What  does  she  desire  here? " 

Each  had  recognized  the  other,  despite  their  cloaks, 
hats,  and  masks. 

"  Good  evening,  Mother  Frangoise,"  said  the  man, 
to  the  sister  who  had  opened  the  door.  "  How  goes 
our  sick  man?" 

"  He  gives  much  promise  of  recovery,  Monseig- 
neur,"  replied  the  woman.  "  He  was  able  to  sit  up 


A   FALSEHOOD  AND  ANOTHER  289 

awhile  to-day.     I  wish  I  might  have  as  much  assur- 
ance for  his  soul  as  for  his  body." 

"That  will  come,  Mother,"  replied  Anjou,  with  a 
smile.  "  Surely  the  care  you  have  given  him  here 
and  the  influences  with  which  he  has  been  sur- 
rounded will  not  be  without  their  effect.  Does  he  not 
confess?  " 

"  Ah,  yes ;  he  is  in  appearance  a  devout  Catholic, 
'  but  his  religion  is  not  true.     He  is  a  hypocrite." 

"  He  will  always  be  a  cripple,  will  he  not?" 

"  Yes ;  he  will  never  walk  without  a  crutch." 

"  He  had  some  severe  scratches  that  night  in  the 
Rue  des  Barres,  when  he  and  his  friends  had  the 
audacity  to  attack  the  gentlemen  of  the  king.  Let 
us  hope  he  will  have  learned  a  lesson  that  he  will  not 
soon  forget." 

"You  take  an  extraordinary  interest  in  this  man, 
Monseigneur." 

"  That  was  exactly  what  I  was  remarking  to  myself 
a  moment  ago,  Mother.  I  suppose  I  am  gratifying 
an  absurd  impulse  in  coming  here  from  the  Louvre  to 
ascertain  the  condition  of  a  wounded  cut-throat  that 
once  attacked  the  gentlemen  of  the  king,  my  brother. 
We  gain  daily  instances  of  our  inability  to  account 
for  tastes,  do  we  not,  Mother?" 

"  Indeed  it  seems  so  !  "  responded  Mother  Fran- 
goise,  in  no  reassured  tone.  "  Will  you  see  your  pro- 
tege this  evening,  Monseigneur?" 

"  If  you  please,  Mother  Frangoise,"  replied  Anjou, 
following  her  into  a  small  chamber  that  opened  on  a 
tiny  garden.  On  a  bed  in  a  corner  of  the  room  lay 

a  man  whose  pale  face  and  sharp  features  betrayed 

19 


2QO  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

the  fact  that  he  had  been  long  and  seriously  ill.  A 
fresh  scar  across  one  cheek  indicated  that  his  illness 
was  the  result  of  wounds.  The  duke  approached 
him  noiselessly,  but  the  man  had  heard  the  door 
opened  and  had  turned  his  head.  There  was  a  look 
of  anxiety  in  his  eyes  as  he  recognized  his  visitor. 
He  returned  Anjou's  friendly  salute  in  a  feeble  tone. 

"  Mother  Franchise  tells  me  that  you  are  now  on 
the  road  to  recovery,"  said  the  duke,  cheerily.  "  Ac- 
cept my  congratulations." 

The  man  fumbled  nervously  with  his  covering. 
He  was  evidently  of  the  class  that  never  outgrows  its 
embarrassment  in  the  presence  of  those  of  superior 
position. 

"  It  is  all  on  account  of  your  kindness  and  that  of 
the  sisters  here,  Monseigneur,"  he  stammered.  "  I 
fear  I  shall  never  be  able  to  repay  you." 

"  Tut  !  tut  !  "  replied  Anjou ;  "  your  gratitude  and 
the  enjoyment  I  have  drawn  from  watching  your 
recovery  more  than  suffice." 

"  Is  there  no  way,  Monseigneur,"  continued  the 
man,  nervously,  "that  I  can  prove  to  you  my 
gratitude  ?  " 

In  reality  his  recovery  had  always  been  retarded 
by  the  fear  of  the  punishment  that  would  doubtless 
follow  it. 

Mother  Franchise  had  withdrawn  from  the  room, 
and  Anjou  bent  over  the  man,  looking  him  squarely 
in  the  eye.  "Do  you  really  desire  to  do  something 
forme?"  Monsieur  asked. 

"  My  life  and  liberty  are  in  your  hands,  Mon- 
seigneur." 


A   FALSEHOOD  AND  ANOTHER  291 

"  Then  I  will  tell  you  of  a  service  you  can  render 
me.  Listen  attentively :  the  king,  as  you  know,  has 
never  discovered  who  instigated  the  attack  on  his 
gentlemen  that  night  in  the  Rue  des  Barres.  As  I 
have  explained  to  you  before,  your  men  made  a  mis- 
take in  falling  on  the  two  you  first  saw.  This  was 
not  your  fault,  for  I  had  not  foreseen  the  visit  of  his 
Majesty  and  his  gentlemen  to  that  street  on  that 
night.  I  have  discovered,  however,  the  identity  of 
one  that  intended  the  assassination  of  the  king  himself. 
This  man  I  desire  to  be  rid  of  at  once.  His  very 
life  is  a  menace  to  both  the  king  and  myself.  You 
can  be  of  assistance  to  me  in  my  plan  to  remove  him." 

"Ami  to  kill  him?" 

"  No.  You  must  merely  accompany  me  to  the 
king,  and  relate  to  his  Majesty  a  story  which  I  will 
now  detail  to  you.  You  will  tell  his  Majesty  that,  on 
the  day  before  the  incident  in  the  Rue  des  Barres,  a 
gentleman  came  to  you  and  told  you  to  gather  a 
dozen  men  and  meet  him  the  next  night  in  the  Rue 
de  la  Mortellerie.  This  gentleman,  you  will  say,  told 
you  that,  at  eight  o'clock  that  night,  a  man  would 
enter  a  house  in  the  Rue  des  Barres  after  posting  two 
or  three  gentlemen  in  the  street  without.  These  you 
were  to  fall  on  and  kill,  and  you  were  then  to  wait 
until  the  other  emerged  from  the  house  and  assassi- 
nate him.  During  the  conflict  that  occurred  that  night, 
you  will  say,  one  of  the  gentlemen  in  the  street  ex- 
claimed, '  Knave,  I  am  the  man  that  hired  you ! ' 
whereupon,  recognizing  his  voice  as  that  of  your  em- 
ployer, you  immediately  dropped  your  point,  receiv- 
ing the  thrust  that  brought  you  here.  At  the  same 


A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

time  one  of  your  men  plunged  his  sword  into  the 
breast  of  the  gentleman  that  had  spoken  to  you.  Do 
you  understand  ?  " 

"  I  know  the  story,"  replied  the  man,  briefly  repeat- 
ing what  Anjou  had  just  told  him ;  "  but  why  is  this 
gentleman  supposed  to  have  plotted  against  his 
Majesty's  life?" 

"  Because  he  is  a  Huguenot  and  in  league  with  the 
King  of  Navarre,  who  had  intended  to  take  advantage 
of  the  king's  death  to  place  himself  on  the  throne  in 
my  stead." 

"  And  this  assassin's  name  is  —  ?  " 

"  The  Comte  de  Chabanes." 

The  man  did  not  reply  for  some  moments.  "  You 
assure  me,  Monseigneur,"  he  said,  finally,  "  that  I  shall 
not  be  examined  by  the  king?" 

"  I  have  arranged  everything.  The  king  is  under 
the  impression  that  you  have  been  examined  by  my- 
self, and  he  will  expect  the  story  that  I  have  just  de- 
tailed to  you." 

"  And  after  that  I  shall  be  in  no  danger  of  arrest?  " 

"  You  have  my  word  for  it,"  replied  Anjou,  who 
knew  that  an  oubliette  was  destined  to  preclude  such 
a  possibility.  "  You  understand  that  I  am  merely 
taking  a  short  course  to  rid  my  brother  of  a  dangerous 
enemy.  This  Comte  de  Chabanes  was  selected  to 
accompany  the  king  to  the  Rue  des  Barres  only  the 
night  before  the  conflict  in  that  street.  The  count, 
I  have  learned,  was  not  over-anxious  to  go,  pleading 
other  duties  and  only  acquiescing  when  the  king  in- 
sisted. This  fact  will  agree  with  your  statement  that 
the  count  had  hired  you  to  attack  the  gentlemen  with 


A   FALSEHOOD  AND  ANOTHER  293 

the  king,  not  knowing  that  he  would  be  one  of  those 
gentlemen.  It  will  also  explain  why  your  antagonist 
spoke  to  you  before  you  received  your  wound.  As 
the  count  has  before  been  suspected  of  Huguenot 
sympathies,  his  conviction  in  the  eyes  of  the  king  will 
be  certain  on  the  strength  of  such  evidence,  and,  once 
he  is  in  the  Bastille,  a  menace  to  the  crown  of  France 
will  have  been  removed.  If  you  will  implicitly  follow 
my  instructions  and  play  your  part  well,  I  will  not 
only  insure  your  immunity  from  arrest,  but  give  you 
a  hundred  rose  nobles." 

Anjou's  ratiocination  seemed  intended  more  for  his 
own  satisfaction  than  for  the  information  of  the  cut- 
throat. 

"  I  will  do  my  best,  Monseigneur,"  replied  the  latter, 
reassured  by  the  added  temptation  of  the  promised 
money. 

"  Very  well,  then.  In  a  few  days  I  will  send  for 
you,  you  will  be  taken  to  the  Louvre,  and  the  king 
will  hear  your  story.  Then  you  will  receive  the 
money  and  depart  a  free  man." 

The  duke  arose  as  he  finished  speaking,  Mother 
Franchise  re-entering  the  room. 

"  I  am  going  now,  Mother,"  he  said,  cheerily. 
"  Your  patient  has  made  most  wonderful  progress." 

In  the  hall  he  paused  an  instant  before  leaving. 
"  Does  Mme.  de  Montpensier  come  here  often, 
Mother?  "  he  asked,  abruptly. 

Mother  Frangoise  could  not  conceal  her  astonish- 
ment at  the  question.  "  How  do  you  know  she 
comes  here  at  all,  Monseigneur?"  she  asked. 

"  I  recognized  her  figure  as  we  passed  in  the  door- 
way." 


294  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  She  comes  here  occasionally  to  talk  with  the 
sisters  and  visit  our  sick.  She  is  a  good  woman, 
Monseigneur,  and  a  good  Catholic." 

Anjou  crossed  himself  devoutly.  "  I  know  that, 
Mother  "  he  said  as  he  opened  the  door. 


XXVI 

AN  EXPLANATION  AND  AN  ARREST 

T  7ICTOIRE  experienced  a  sense  of  great  gratifi- 
cation when  she  heard  the  news  of  Guise's 
sudden  and  hurried  marriage  to  the  Princesse  de 
Porcien.  Naturally,  being  ignorant  of  the  true  cause, 
she  construed  it  as  the  fulfilment  of  the  duke's 
threat  to  do  that  which  the  king  himself  had  been 
unable  to  bring  about,  as  a  proof  of  the  former's 
sincerity  in  his  declaration  of  the  attitude  of  him- 
self and  Marguerite  de  Valois.  She  could  not  look 
on  the  new  duchess  as  a  rival  in  any  sense  of  the 
word,  for  all  France  knew  that  the  latter  had  assidu- 
ously pursued  the  young  duke,  in  the  hope  of  ally- 
ing the  house  of  Cleves  with  that  of  Guise. 

Accordingly,  when  she  next  saw  him  at  court, 
Victoire  greeted  him  cordially.  "  Fie,  cousin  !  "  she 
said,  laughingly,  the  first  time  they  conversed  alone, 
"you  have  done  a  rash,  impulsive  thing  that  you 
will  always  regret.  You  .have  thrown  away  a  for- 
tune the  like  of  which  cannot  be  found  in  all  the 
world,  and  all  for  the  friendship  of  a  simple  lady 
of  the  court." 

She  laid  especial  emphasis  on  the  word  "  friend- 
ship," for  she  had  determined  henceforth  to  permit 
Guise  to  regard  her  in  that  light  only,  and  she 
desired  him  to  understand  her  determination. 


296  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Guise  was  not  greatly  pleased  with  the  evidence 
of  it,  though  he  tactfully  replied,  "  Madame,  I  swear 
that  my  action  will  ever  be  the  pride  of  my  life. 
If  I  have  secured  that  friendship  of  which  you 
speak,  I  have  gained  what  is  greater  to  me  than 
all  the  fortunes  of  the  world  combined." 

"  We  shall  see  about  that  later,"  responded  Vic- 
toire,  gayly.  She  was  pleased  by  his  words  more 
than  she  would  admit  even  to  herself.  "  You  should 
have  married  Madame,"  she  continued,  waving  off 
the  duke's  protestations ;  "  I  should  not  have  been 
jealous,  I  assure  you.  Why,  you  remember,  only 
the  other  night  at  the  ballet  I  told  you  to  have 
eyes  only  for  the  king's  sister." 

"  You  told  me  that,  Madame  ?  Surely,  you  are 
mistaken;  I  did  not  hear  you  say  it." 

"  Nevertheless,  I  did  say  it  when  you  were  speak- 
ing to  me  before  your  entree." 

"  What  a  curious  mistake,  Madame !  Heaven 
knows  that  I  listen  to  your  voice  with  raptest  atten- 
tion whenever  I  am  honored  by  its  music.  How 
could  I  have  failed  to  hear  you  say  such  a  thing?  " 

"  I  know  not,  cousin.  I  only  know  that  I  called 
you  to  me,  just  before  the  commencement  of  the 
ballet,  and  spoke  the  words  to  you." 

"And  was  I  masked?"  inquired  Guise,  who  began 
to  penetrate  the  mystery. 

"Yes,  masked  and  ready  to  proceed  with  the 
entree." 

"  In  that  case,  Madame,  the  matter  is  clear  enough. 
It  was  the  Due  d'Anjou  whom,  owing  to  the  similar- 
ity of  our  costumes  and  the  fact  that  both  of  us  were 


AN  EXPLANATION  AND  AN  ARREST          297 

masked,  you  mistook  for  myself.  The  mystery  of 
his  remarks  to  me  a  little  later  is  explained." 

"  And  the  words  he  said  to  me !  "  exclaimed  Vic- 
toire,  impulsively  extending  her  hand  to  the  duke, 
who,  kneeling,  kissed  it  so  ardently  that  she  flushed 
deeply,  but  not  with  anger.  "  Ah,  M.  de  Guise,  can 
you  ever  forgive  me  for  the  injustice  I  have  done 
you?  I  thought  you  as  deceitful  as  other  men,  and 
that  you  had  spoken  of  me  to  Monsieur.  He  came 
to  me  after  the  ballet  and  reproached  me  with  hav- 
ing favored  you  to  his  prejudice,  and  I  thought  — " 
She  broke  off,  suddenly  realizing  that  she  was  going 
farther  than  she  had  intended. 

"And  you  thought  —  ?"  said  Guise,  eagerly. 

"  Well,  never  mind ;  I  misjudged  you  and  blamed 
you  for  what  chance  alone  brought  about.  Monsieur 
is  very  cordial  to  the  bride  and  groom,"  she  added, 
by  way  of  changing  the  subject.  "  One  would 
scarcely  believe  that  but  a  few  nights  ago  he  en- 
gaged you  in  deadly  combat !  " 

"  And  with  a  poisoned  dagger,"  said  Guise,  bitterly, 
adding,  "  This  is,  of  course,  in  strictest  confidence." 

"  Poisoned  ?    Surely,  you  are  mistaken,  Monsieur !  " 

"  No,  Madame,  for  I  tested  it  after  the  duel." 

"  Then  he  must  have  taken  it  in  ignorance,"  said 
Victoire,  charitably. 

Guise  shrugged  his  shoulders  but  did  not  reply. 

The  king,  with  Anjou,  Alengon,  and  several  others 
approached.  "  Mme.  de  Montpensier,"  said  Charles 
IX.,  "  it  seems  that  our  brother  Guise,  deprived  of 
his  wife  by  the  appreciative  gentlemen  of  our  court," 
—  the  king  indicated  a  group,  of  which  the  duchess 


298  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

was  the  central  figure,  in  another  part  of  the  room,  — 
"  is  already  compelled  to  seek  solace  with  our  fairest 
ladies." 

Guise  recognized  the  slur  on  his  incomplete  de- 
votion to  his  bride,  but  received  it  with  a  smile. 
"  Sire,"  he  said,  gallantly,  "  I  could  ask  no  more 
pleasant  compulsion." 

Victoire  tried  in  vain  to*  hide  her  blushes  and,  half 
angry  with  the  duke  for  thus  causing  her  confusion 
before  the  king,  she  hailed  the  Comte  de  Chabanes 
who  was  passing. 

When  Charles  IX.'s  eye  fell  on  Chabanes,  the 
sovereign  paled  visibly  and,  not  deigning  to  recog- 
nize the  respectful  bow  with  which  the  count  greeted 
him,  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  rapidly  away. 
Guise  followed  him  with  the  others,  after  excusing 
himself  with  Victoire,  who  evidently  desired  to  speak 
privately  with  Chabanes. 

"  Why,  Raoul,"  she  said  to  the  latter,  in  a  low, 
frightened  tone,  "  did  you  notice  the  coolness  of  the 
king  when  you  approached?  He  paid  you  not 
the  slightest  attention  and  seemed  displeased  to 
see  you !  " 

"  I  cannot  explain  it,  Victoire,"  replied  Chabanes, 
whose  mind  was  occupied  more  with  the-  attention 
he  had  just  seen  her  granting  the  Due  de  Guise 
than  with  the  king's  evident  and  ominous  disfavor ; 
"  unless  Monsieur  has  been  doing  me  ill  offices  with 
his  Majesty." 

Victoire,  who  was  greatly  alarmed  by  the  king's 
attitude  toward  Chabanes,  sought  her  husband  with 
the  intention  of  at  once  laying  the  incident  before 


AN  EXPLANA  TION  AND  AN  ARREST         299 

him  and  asking  his  opinion  of  the  king's  meaning. 
Chabanes  sadly  left  the  Louvre  and  started  for  the 
H6tel  de  Montpensier.  He  had  not  gone  a  hundred 
yards  when  a  horseman  galloped  up  beside  him  and 
dismounted.  Chabanes  at  once  recognized  him  as 
La  Chastro,  Captain  of  the  King's  Guards. 

"  M.  de  Chabanes ! "  cried  La  Chastro,  "  I  would 
have  a  word  with  you." 

"  I  can  guess  your  word,  M.  le  Capitaine,"  replied 
the  count,  with  a  melancholy  smile.  He  had  seen 
others  thus  approached  by  the  captain,  and  he  knew 
what  the  hailing  always  meant.  He  recalled  the 
king's  recent  behavior. 

La  Chastro  drew  a  paper  from  his  doublet  and  was 
about  to  unfold  it,  but  the  count  restrained  him  with 
a  gesture. 

"That  is  unnecessary,  Monsieur,"  he  said,  drawing 
his  sword  and  presenting  it,  hilt  first,  to  the  captain. 
"  I  am  ready  to  follow  you." 

"  Then  will  you  do  me  the  honor  of  walking  by 
my  side  to  the  next  corner,  where  a  carriage  awaits 
us?" 

Chabanes  and  La  Chastro  entered  the  carriage, 
which  they  reached  after  a  minute's  walk,  the  latter 
having  given  his  horse  in  charge  of  a  waiting  lackey. 

The  curtains  of  the  carriage  windows  were  tightly 
drawn  and,  when  the  door  was  closed,  they  found 
themselves  in  total  darkness.  For  some  minutes 
neither  spoke. 

"  Are  there  no  affairs  that  you  wish  to  arrange,  M. 
le  Comte  ?  "  asked  La  Chastro,  at  length,  in  a  tone  of 
wonder.  He  had  taken  many  men  to  prison,  but 


300  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

never  before  had  he  seen  one  that  went  without  a 
question  or  a  request. 

"  I  can  think  of  none,  Monsieur,"  replied  the  count, 
calmly,  "  but  I  thank  you  for  the  question." 

"  I  shall  be  honored  to  deliver  any  message  with 
which  you  may  intrust  me,  Monsieur,"  continued  the 
captain,  with  growing  admiration  for  the  coolness  of 
his  prisoner. 

"  I  shall  be  under  obligations  to  you  M.  le  Capi- 
taine,  if  you  will  inform  M.  le  Prince  de  Montpensier 
of  my  arrest." 

"  The  prince  shall  know  of  it  at  once." 

The  coach  had  arrived  before  the  Bastille,  of  whose 
gray  towers  and  grim  walls  Chabanes  caught  a 
glimpse  as  the  footman  opened  the  coach  door. 
They  were  at  the  first  court  in  front  of  the  castle 
keep. 

"Who  goes  there?  "  cried  the  sentinel. 

"  The  king's  writ !  "  replied  La  Chastro. 

The  carriage  did  not  at  once  proceed,  but  remained 
stationary  during  an  interval  sufficient  for  the  shop- 
keepers about  the  flanks  of  the  chateau  to  close  their 
places  of  business.  Chabanes  saw  several  soldiers  on 
duty  pull  their  hats  over  their  eyes  and  face  about 
toward  the  wall.  Then  the  closed  carriage  passed 
the  outpost  and  a  bell  sounded. 

"  Advance !  "  cried  a  voice,  as  the  rattle  of  chains 
announced  the  lowering  of  the  drawbridge,  and  the 
coach  rumbled  forward  across  the  stout,  iron-clamped 
boards.  They  drove  along  a  covered  way  that  led  to 
the  dwelling  of  the  governor  of  the  Bastille,  contiguous 
to  the  armory,  and  stopped  at  the  governor's  door, 


AN  EXPLANATION  AND  AN  ARREST         30! 

where  La  Chastro,  followed  by  Chabanes,  descended. 
They  were  greeted  at  the  door  by  the  king's  lieu- 
tenant, who  politely  welcomed  them  and  conducted 
them  into  the  presence  of  the  governor.  The  latter 
received  them  civilly  and  at  once  endorsed  the  lettre 
de  cachet,  which  La  Chastro  drew  from  his  doublet 
and  read  aloud :  "  Order  to  detain  at  my  fortress  of 
the  Bastille  the  Comte  de  Chabanes.  Signed,  Charles, 
Rex." 

La  Chastro  bowed  his  deferential  adieux  to  both 
the  governor  and  Chabanes,  re-entered  the  coach, 
and  drove  away. 

After  several  formal  civilities  the  governor  an- 
nounced to  Chabanes  that,  being  a  prisoner  of  state 
and  of  high  rank,  he  should  have  a  chamber  in  the 
Tower  of  Liberty,  which  was  one  of  the  eight  wall- 
united  structures  that  composed  the  great  chateau, 
and  to  which  he  was  at  once  conducted. 

"Until  I  have  received  my  instructions  in  your 
regard,  M.  le  Comte,"  said  the  governor,  "  I  shall  be 
compelled  to  keep  you  in  solitude.  It  will  not  be  for 
more  than  a  day  or  two  at  most,  and  after  that  you 
will  have  many  privileges.  Doubtless  there  will  be 
no  objection  to  your  being  allowed  the  freedom  of 
the  library,  the  court,  the  platform  on  the  towers,  and 
the  garden  of  the  bastion.  It  is  even  possible  that 
you  may  communicate  with  your  friends  without  the 
chateau." 

Chabanes  learned  soon  enough,  however,  that  this 
latter  privilege  was  to  be  denied  him,  though  the 
others  were  readily  granted.  "  The  king,"  the  gov- 
ernor said,  a  day  later,  "has  given  strict  orders 


3O2  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

that  M.  de  Chabanes  shall  neither  send  nor  receive 
letters." 

Toward  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  three  days 
after  the  count's  incarceration,  Victoire  was  ushered 
into  the  presence  of  the  governor  of  the  Bastille. 

"  M.  le  Gouverneur,"  she  said,  with  ill-concealed 
impatience,  "  I  desire  to  see  M.  le  Comte  de 
Chabanes." 

"Have  you  an  order,  Madame?"  inquired  the 
governor,  politely. 

"Yes,  here  it  is;"  and  she  exhibited  a  scrap  of 
paper  bearing  the  king's  signature. 

The  governor  glanced  at  it  and,  bidding  her  follow 
him,  at  once  led  her  out  into  a  gloomy  passage,  at  the 
end  of  which  was  a  narrow  spiral  staircase,  by  which 
they  ascended  to  the  third  story.  Victoire  found  her- 
self in  a  stone-paved  corridor,  on  which  opened  a  num- 
ber of  uniform  doors.  The  governor  unlocked  one 
of  them  and  led  her  into  a  small  octagonal  chamber 
with  whitewashed  ceiling  and  walls  and  a  brick  floor, 
comfortably,  though  far  from  luxuriously,  furnished. 

A  single  high,  barred  window,  that  was  approached 
by  three  steps  and  that  overlooked  the  inner  court  of 
the  Bastille,  surrounded  on  all  four  sides  by  the  gray, 
moss-covered  walls  of  the  fortress,  lighted  the  apart- 
ment and  revealed  to  the  princess  Chabanes,  seated, 
with  his  back  to  the  door  and  reading  a  book. 

"  M.  le  Comte,"  said  the  governor,  deferentially, 
"  Mme.  la  Princesse  de  Montpensier  desires  to  speak 
with  you.  Will  you  see  her  now?" 

"  At  once,"  cried  Chabanes,  springing  to  his  feet 
and  turning  to  greet  his  welcome  visitor. 


AN  EXPLANATION  AND  AN  ARREST         303 

Victoire  advanced  and  seized  both  the  count's 
hands  in  hers  as  the  governor  discreetly  withdrew. 

"  My  poor  Raoul !  "  she  cried,  her  eyes  filling  with 
tears,  "  how  you  must  have  suffered  !  " 

"  I !  "  said  Chabanes,  with  a  melancholy  smile ;  "  I 
am  accustomed  to  suffering !  " 

"  But  not  to  this  kind  !  "  exclaimed  Victoire,  seeing 
in  his  words  only  a  reference  to  his  recent  illness. 
"  Did  you  think  we  had  deserted  you  at  such  an 
hour?" 

"  No.     I  knew  that  were  impossible." 

"  Captain  La  Chastro  came  directly  to  Charles  after 
leaving  you  here.  Both  Charles  and  myself  were 
thunderstruck  at  the  news  of  your  imprisonment.  He 
at  once  sought  an  audience  with  the  king.  I  fear  he 
did  your  cause  more  harm  than  good,  though,"  she 
added,  mournfully. 

"And  what  did  the  king  tell  Charles?"  asked 
Chabanes. 

"  The  king  refused  to  state  the  grounds  for  your 
imprisonment.  It  was  a  matter  concerning  the  wel- 
fare of  the  state,  he  said,  and  it  could  not  at  present 
be  explained.  Charles  begged  for  your  release, 
pleading  your  services  to  the  king,  especially  that  of 
the  night  of  the  attempted  assassination.  To  every- 
thing the  king  replied  with  shrugs  and  sneers.  At 
last  Charles  so  far  forgot  himself  as  to  denounce  as 
tyrannical  your  imprisonment  here.  The  king  flew 
into  a  rage  and  bade  him  leave  the  room ;  so  he  was 
compelled  to  retire  in  disgrace  and  dismay." 

"And  how  did  you  obtain  admission  here?" 

"  I  went  to  the  king  and,  on  my  knees,  implored 


304  A   PARFIT  GEN  TIL   KNIGHT 

him  to  give  me,  at  least,  an  order  for  myself  and  my 
husband  to  be  admitted  to  you.  At  first  he  refused 
with  such  firmness  that  I  almost  lost  hope,  but  at  last, 
no  doubt  through  sheer  weariness  at  my  persistence, 
he  wrote  the  order  for  myself,  entirely  ignoring  in  it 
the  prince." 

"  I  am  very  grateful  to  him  for  the  favor,"  said 
Chabanes,  earnestly. 

"  Grateful !  "  cried  Victoire,  indignantly;  "  I  should 
think  you  would  hate  him,  even  though  he  is  the 
king.  I  have  secured  a  promise  of  the  aid  of  M.  de 
Guise  —  " 

Chabanes  sighed  despairingly  and  she  hesitated,  not 
understanding  him. 

"  He  will  do  everything  in  his  power  to  secure  your 
release.  He  is  grateful  to  you  for  your  part  in  the 
duel  between  himself  and  Monsieur." 

"  M.  de  Guise  owes  me  nothing,"  said  Chabanes, 
coldly. 

"  Ah,  but  he  is  my  friend,  as  you  know,  Raoul,  and 
he  will  justify  my  confidence  in  him  by  rendering 
himself  of  assistance  to  you,  I  am  sure.  The  king  is 
so  engrossed  with  '  his  new  children/  as  he  calls  the 
Huguenots  since  there  is  no  more  war,  that  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  approach  him.  The  Due  de  Montpensier  is 
unable  to  influence  his  Majesty  because,  the  other 
day,  the  duke  protested  against  the  liberties  that  have 
of  late  been  granted  the  heretics.  The  king  regards 
him  with  evident  disfavor.  Our  misfortunes  are  many 
at  this  serious  hour." 

"  But  I  shall  not  lose  hope,  Victoire,  when  I  know 
that  you  are  working  for  my  interests." 


AN  EXPLANA  TION  AND  AN  ARREST         305 

"  And  of  that  you  may  always  feel  sure." 

"  Is  there  no  news  of  importance  at  court?  " 

"  There  is  none  except  in  relation  to  the  coming 
marriage  of  the  king  to  Elizabeth  of  Austria,  which  is 
to  take  place,  as  you  know,  at  Mezieres." 

"  And  which  will,  doubtless,  so  engross  his 
Majesty's  attention  as  to  entirely  eliminate  from  his 
memory  the  fact  that,  although  the  king's  fortress  of 
the  Bastille  is  a  most  hospitable  place,  the  Comte  de 
Chabanes  has  no  great  liking  for  a  prolonged  residence 
in  it." 

"  Tell  me,  Raoul,  whom  you  consider  the  cause  of 
your  arrest." 

"  It  is  Monsieur,  doubtless,"  replied  Chabanes, 
lowering  his  voice.  "  He  regrets  that  I  interrupted 
his  duel  with  M.  de  Guise,  I  suppose." 

Victoire  could  not  restrain  a  sigh.  "  Then  we  have 
a  powerful  antagonist  with  whom  to  deal,"  she  said, 
sorrowfully.  "What  privileges  do  they  allow  you 
here?" 

"  Two  hours  a  day  for  exercise  in  the  court  and  on 
the  platform  and  for  games  and  conversation  with  the 
other  prisoners,  the  acquaintance  of  several  of  whom 
I  have  already  formed,  occasional  walks  in  the  garden 
of  the  bastion,  the  use  of  the  library,  and  no  com- 
munication with  the  outside  world.  At  least  I  cannot 
complain  of  the  king's  hospitality;  it  is  only  too 
pressing." 

Victoire  and  the  count  conversed  for  some  time, 
the  former,  on  leaving,  expressing  her  determination 
to  work  night  and  day  for  his  freedom.  She  also 
promised  to  return  at  the  first  opportunity.  After 


306  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

she  had  been  gone  a  half-hour  the  governor  again 
visited  the  count's  chamber. 

"  M.  de  Chabanes,"  he  said,  deferentially,  after 
inquiring  if  anything  was  lacking  to  the  count's  com- 
fort, "  the  king  has  placed  an  ample  pension  at  your 
disposal,  and  you  are  at  liberty  to  purchase  such 
articles  of  furniture  and  apparel  as  you  may  desire. 
I  should  be  pleased  to  have  your  company  at  dinner 
this  evening." 

The  following  day  Chabanes'  furniture  received  a 
considerable  addition,  his  own  tables  and  chairs 
having  been  sent  him  from  the  H6tel  de  Montpensier. 


XXVII 

A  RESTRAINT  AND  A  DELIVERANCE 

TTARDLY  a  day  passed  without  some  little  favor 
•"•  being  granted  Chabanes,  who  saw  behind 
each  additional  comfort  and  privilege  the  activity  in 
his  behalf  of  the  prince  and  Victoire.  The  crowning 
indulgence  was  the  arrival  of  Hercules,  whom  Mont- 
pensier  had  sent  from  Champigny  to  the  Bastille. 
The  greeting  between  the  brute  and  his  master  was 
touching  in  the  extreme,  and  the  count,  whose  isola- 
tion was  a  more  terrible  punishment  than  any  one 
dreamed,  drew  much  solace  from  the  companionship 
of  the  faithful  dog. 

The  king's  lieutenant,  who  was  as  courteous  to 
the  count  as  was  the  governor,  informed  Chabanes 
that  he  might  have  the  services  of  his  valet,  Fran- 
c.ois,  who  had  announced  his  readiness  to  share  his 
master's  imprisonment.  Tears  came  to  the  count's 
eyes  as  he  instructed  the  lieutenant  to  refuse  this 
generous  offer. 

"  Tell  him  he  has  my  gratitude,  but  that  I  cannot 
permit  him  to  sacrifice  his  liberty  thus,"  he  said, 
simply. 

A  month  passed  without  either  a  visit  or  a  direct 
message  from  the  prince  or  Victoire.  Chabanes  at 
length  learned  from  the  kfng's  lieutenant  that  Mont- 
pensier,  in  his  eagerness  to  secure :  his  liberation, 


308  A  PARFIT  GENTIL   KNIGHT 

had  only  succeeded  in  further  estranging  himself  and 
the  king,  who  had  emphasized  his  order  that  no  letters 
should  be  given  to  the  prisoner,  and  had  unequivocally 
refused  the  prince  permission  to  visit  the  Bastille. 

Guise,  pressed  by  Victoire,  pretended  to  have  un- 
availingly  solicited  the  king  in  the  count's  behalf;  in 
reality  he  was  more  than  glad  to  have  Chabanes  out 
of  the  path  to  Victoire's  heart. 

The  princess  lost  no  opportunity  of  addressing  the 
king,  who,  after  firmly  but  politely  refusing  to  grant 
her  requests,  at  length  became  discourteous  in  his 
replies  to  her  solicitations.  As  a  result,  the  Due  de 
Montpensier  warned  his  son  and  Victoire  that  they 
must  immediately  cease  harassing  his  Majesty  in 
Chabanes'  regard,  unless  they  desired  to  be  over- 
taken by  a  fate  similar  to  the  count's.  They  decided, 
therefore,  painful  as  it  was,  to  postpone  their  efforts 
to  influence  the  king  until  they  should  have  regained 
some  measure  of  the  royal  favor.  At  last,  when  two 
months  had  slipped  by,  Victoire,  chafing  under  her 
burden  of  despairing  loneliness,  resolved  to  approach 
the  Due  d'Anjou,  in  the  hope  of  his  procuring  the 
count's  pardon. 

The  count,  on  his  part,  passed  the  days  in  torment 
that  was  next  to  unendurable.  He  read  determin- 
edly and  took  advantage  of  every  opportunity  to 
study  his  fellow-prisoners,  with  whom  he  became 
immediately  popular,  and  thus  to  divert  his  tortured 
mind.  At  night,  when  he  was  in  his  room  and  the 
key  had  been  turned  on  the  other  side  of  the  lock, 
he  would  unburden  himself  to  the  dog,  which  passed 
the  time  faithfully  at  its  master's  side. 


A  RESTRAINT  AND  A  DELIVERANCE         309 

"  She  is  at  Villars-Cotterets  to-night,  Hercules," 
he  would  say.  The  governor  kept  him  informed  of 
the  general  news  at  court.  "  She  is  there  in  the 
midst  of  the  court  with  no  one  to  guard  her  from 
the  innumerable  snares  laid  for  her  by  such  men  as 
Guise  and  Monsieur.  Only  the  prince  is  to  care  for 
her,  and  his  jealousy  is  in  itself  sufficient  to  drive  her 
to  the  verge  of  rashness.  Ah,  it  is  hard,  hard,  hard, 
to  be  powerless  when  she  is  in  danger!  Heaven 
knows  it  was  difficult  enough  before,  when  I  could 
be  at  her  side,  but  to  be  here,  a  prisoner,  unable  to 
render  her  the  slightest  service  —  it  is  maddening ! 
She  and  Charles  are  suffering  on  my  account.  Ah, 
you  need  not  look  cynical;  I  can  never  doubt  the 
sincerity  of  their  friendship.  If  only  I  could  escape  ! 
But,  even  then,  I  should  be  as  helpless  as  I  am  now ; 
I  might  not  approach  her." 

Then  he  would  walk  the  narrow  floor,  hours  at  a 
time,  consumed  by  the  most  terrible  anguish,  while 
the  dog,  half  in  fear,  eyed  him  sympathetically  from 
the  corner  in  which  he  lay. 

One  morning  in  April,  the  guard  announced  to 
Chabanes  that  he  was  to  have  a  visitor,  the  first  since 
the  previous  October.  The  count's  despondent  heart 
leaped  with  hope  at  this  information ;  beyond  a  doubt 
it  was  Victoire  or  the  prince  that  had  come  at  last. 
Hercules  caught  the  spirit  of  his  master's  cheerful- 
ness and  barked  joyfully  as  a  turnkey  led  him  out 
to  the  court  for  his  morning  exercise.  The  visitor, 
however,  was  the  Due  d'Anjou. 

He  sauntered  nonchalantly  into  the  room,  spoke 
coldly  to  Chabanes,  and  seated  himself  opposite  the 


310  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

latter.  Monsieur  was  unable,  however,  to  restrain 
an  expression  of  surprise  at  the  sight  of  the  count's 
drawn  and  haggard  features  and  rapidly  whitening 
hair. 

"  Your  stay  here  does  not  seem  to  have  agreed 
with  you,  M.  le  Comte,"  said  Anjou,  in  a  tone  of 
indifference. 

"  I  confess  that  it  has  not  been  the  most  enjoyable 
experience  of  my  life,"  Chabanes  replied,  coldly. 

There  was  a  momentary  silence  during  which 
Monsieur  seemed  to  be  meditating  on  the  proper 
way  to  express  that  for  which  he  had  come. 

Chabanes  came  to  his  aid.  "To  what  may  I 
ascribe  the  honor  of  this  visit,  Monseigneur?"  he 
asked,  not  without  a  trace  of  bitterness  in  his  voice. 

"  Really,  I  scarcely  know  how  to  answer  you, 
M.  le  Comte,"  replied  Anjou.  "  I  was  struck  with  a 
sudden  fancy  to  visit  the  Bastille,  not  having  been 
here  for  some  time,  and,  on  inquiring  of  the  governor 
in  regard  to  his  guests,  I  learned  of  your  presence 
here.  It  is  some  weeks  since  I  saw  you  last,  you 
know,  and  I  decided  to  accept  the  opportunity  of 
renewing  our  acquaintance." 

"  The  honor  is  more  than  my  due,"  said  Chabanes, 
ironically. 

"  I  fancied  that  you  might  lack  accurate  informa~ 
tion  in  regard  to  the  latest  happenings  at  court," 
continued  Monsieur,  not  noticing  the  count's  remark. 

"The  governor  kindly  keeps  me  informed." 

"The  court  is  now  at  Blois,  M.  le  Comte.  To- 
morrow the  ambassadors  of  her  gracious  Majesty, 
Elizabeth  of  England,  are  to  be  received." 


A   RESTRAINT  AND  A   DELIVERANCE         3 1 1 

"They  are  to  negotiate  for  a  marriage  between 
yourself  and  her  Majesty." 

"  Exactly.  I  see  that  you  are  excellently  informed. 
A  fortnight  ago  occurred  a  notable  wedding." 

"  That  of  the  Amiral  de  Coligny  and  Jacqueline 
de  Montbel,"  said  Chabanes,  in  a  tone  that  clearly 
indicated  that  he  was  wearying  of  the  conversation. 

"  Which  was,  doubtless,  of  greater  interest  to  you, 
a  Huguenot,  than  is  the  news  concerning  my  humble 
self." 

"  I  am  not  a  Huguenot,  Monseigneur." 

"  There,  there,  I  did  not  expect  you  to  confess.  It 
is  said  that  you  are  even  more  than  a  heretic.  Why 
are  you  enjoying  his  Majesty's  hospitality  these 
days?" 

"  I  could  ask  you  the  same  question,  Monsei- 
gneur," returned  the  count,  who,  half  against  his 
will,  began  to  hope  that  Anjou  would  relieve  him 
on  that  point. 

"  Unfortunately,  I  am  unable  to  answer  it.  To  tell 
the  truth  I  was  unaware  of  your  presence  here,  as  I 
said,  and,  even  had  I  known  of  it,  my  coming  here 
was  the  result  of  a  momentary  impulse.  I  had  no 
opportunity  to  make  inquiries." 

Chabanes  relapsed  into  melancholy  gloom.  He 
could  have  sworn  that  Monsieur  lied,  and  he  felt  that 
there  was  some  mysterious  motive  of  evil  import 
behind  this  remarkable  visit.  The  motive  was  not 
long  in  disclosing  itself. 

"  Quite  the  most  sensational  affair  at  Blois  just 
now  is  that  of  M.  de  Guise  and  an  old  friend  of  yours, 
the  Princesse  de  Montpensier." 


312  A    PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Monsieur  paused  with  the  evident  intention  of 
noting  well  the  effect  of  his  words.  The  count  first 
flushed  hotly  and  then  became  lividly  pale.  Anjou 
continued,  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction :  — 

"They  are  inseparable;  M.  de  Guise  has  quite 
deserted  his  wife,  who  has  already  taken  on  two 
lovers  of  whom  all  the  court  knows,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  less  prominent  ones.  M.  de  Montpensier,  it  is 
said,  makes  no  objection  to  the  unconcealed  relations 
of  the  duke  and  the  fair  princess.  I  believe  she  has 
never  been  more  radiant  than  she  is  in  her  new-found 
happiness ;  and  as  for  M.  de  Guise,  he  is  exalted,  in 
his  own  estimation,  far  above  the  king." 

Chabanes  was  putting  forth  his  entire  strength  in 
an  endeavor  to  control  his  impulse  to  strangle  the 
impudent  fop,  who,  although  the  first  prince  in 
France,  resorted  to  such  dishonorable  lies  merely  for 
the  satisfaction  of  adding  to  the  sufferings  of  a  tor- 
tured man.  The  flimsiness  of  the  fabrication  about 
Guise  and  Victoire  was  too  apparent  to  Chabanes 
to  permit  him  for  a  moment  to  doubt  Anjou's 
mendacity. 

"  M.  le  Due  d'Anjou,"  said  Chabanes,  between  his 
clenched  teeth,  "  you  lie." 

Monsieur  laughed  softly.  "  I,  of  course,  expected 
you  to  say  so ;  you  are  safe  in  offering  the  insult,  for 
you  know  I  cannot  avenge  it  as  could  one  of  your 
station.  Nevertheless-,  the  insult  does  not  detract 
from  the  truth  of  what  I  have  just  related  to  you. 
Your  interest  in  the  affair  is  even  more  than  I  had 
expected." 

Chabanes,  who  had  apparently,  in  great  measure, 


A   RESTRAINT  AND  A  DELIVERANCE         313 

regained  his  self-control,  arose  and,  taking  a  glove 
from  the  table  at  his  elbow,  struck  the  astounded 
duke  full  across  the  face  with  it. 

The  color  •  came  and  went  furiously  in  the  latter's 
face ;  with  an  involuntary  gesture  his  hand  sought  his 
sword,  which  was  half-drawn,  and,  on  second  thought, 
replaced  in  its  scabbard.  Monsieur,  who  had  sprung 
angrily  to  his  feet  at  the  blow,  smilingly  reseated 
himself. 

"  I  see,"  he  said,  as  though  addressing  himself; 
"  his  incarceration  has  affected  his  mind." 

"  You  accept  the  insult,  do  you,  Monsieur?"  asked 
Chabanes,  contemptuously. 

Monsieur  merely  laughed  again ;  there  was  a  red 
mark  across  his  cheek  where  the  glove  had  struck. 
In  desperation  Chabanes  returned  to  his  chair  and 
reseated  himself. 

"It  is  to  your  credit,  M.  le  Comte,"  said  Anjou, 
with  a  sneer,  "  that  you  refuse  to  believe  your  mis- 
tress unfaithful." 

Chabanes'  look  of  impotent  despair  became  only 
the  more  apparent.  It  seemed  that  he  must  strangle 
the  king's  brother,  —  that  there  was  no  alternative. 

"  Still  you  are  wrong,"  continued  Monsieur,  slowly ; 
"  not  only  is  M.  de  Guise  the  present  favorite,  but 
I  myself  could  relate  an  interesting  story  of  the 
princess.  The  strange  and  romantic  part  about  it, 
M.  le  Comte,"  Anjou  drawled,  exasperatingly,  "  is 
that  it  is  to  yourself  that  I  am  in  debt  for  it,  rather 
than  to  any  personal  attraction  of  my  own.  Mme.  la 
Princesse  solicited  from  me  your  pardon  ;  I  explained 
to  her  that  the  favor  would  be  a  great  one,  suggesting 


314  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

that  I  should  demand  a  great  favor  in  return.     You 
see,  it  is  clear  as  day." 

Monsieur  toyed  with  his  lace  cuff  and  regarded  the 
count  with  a  smile  of  fiendish  enjoyment.  The  latter 
cast  on  his  tormentor  a  look  of  supreme  contempt ; 
Chabanes  was  now  completely  master  of  himself. 

"Well,  can  you  make  no  comment,  Monsieur?" 
asked  Anjou,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"  There  is  nothing  for  me  to  say,  Monseigneur," 
replied  the  count,  emphatically,  "  except  that  you  have 
shown  yourself  both  a  liar  and  a  coward." 

Anjou  flushed  hotly  and  his  hand  again  sought  his 
sword.  He  was  no  match  for  Chabanes  in  the  con- 
trolling of  temper. 

"  Heaven  grant  long  life  to  his  gracious  Majesty, 
King  Charles  IX.,"  continued  Chabanes,  coolly,  "  not 
only  since  he  is  king,  but  because  France  is  in  danger 
of  seeing  on  her  throne  the  most  despicable  creature 
in  the  realm." 

Monsieur  drew  his  sword  and  sprang  forward,  cry- 
ing, "  Fool,  you  shall  pay  dearly  for  this  insult !  " 

Chabanes,  who  was  unarmed,  seized  a  light  walking- 
stick  that  lay  across  the  table,  and  before  Monsieur 
knew  what  had  happened,  the  count  had  brought  into 
service  an  old  trick  that  wrenched  his  antagonist's 
weapon  from  his  excited  grasp.  Monsieur  stood 
trembling  in  mingled  fear,  hatred,  and  regret  that  he 
had  been  so  forgetful  of  himself. 

Chabanes  calmly  picked  up  the  sword,  broke  it 
across  his  knee,  and  returned  the  pieces  to  their 
owner.  "You  have  dishonored  it,  Monsieur,"  he 
said,  simply. 


A   RESTRAINT  AND  A  DELIVERANCE         3  1 5 

Anjou  was  unable  to  reply ;  he  felt  that  he  would 
make  any  sacrifice  to  be  out  of  that  room,  away  from 
the  presence  of  the  man  that  had  taught  him  so  severe 
and  humiliating  a  lesson.  At  length,  in  desperation, 
he  uttered  a  forced  laugh,  bowed  to  Chabanes,  who 
returned  the  obeisance,  and  departed  without  a  word. 

Shortly  after,  a  guard  led  in  Hercules.  "  My 
friend,"  said  Chabanes  to  the  dog,  when  the  turnkey 
had  retired,  "  the  king's  brother  has  just  been  here ; 
he  had  the  most  absurdly  flimsy  lies  to  tell,  and  in 
return  for  them  I  gave  him  a  lesson  in  what  is  most 
foreign  to  his  cowardly  nature,  Honor.  He  would 
have  fared  ill,  doubtless,  had  you  been  here,  for,  true 
to  his  nature,  he  attacked  with  his  sword  your  un- 
armed master.  You  would  not  have  idly  witnessed 
that  act,  would  you?"  and  he  caressed  the  animal 
fondly. 

Slowly  the  days  of  spring  and  summer  crawled  by, 
without  Chabanes  receiving  other  word  from  the  out- 
side world  than  the  meagre  details  supplied  him  by 
the  governor  of  the  Bastille.  With  each  day  the 
count's  desperation  increased.  He  realized  that  the 
deadly  enmity  that  Monsieur  now  bore  him  made  his 
chances  of  pardon  next  to  nothing.  His  only  hope 
lay  in  the  possibility  of  Anjou's  being  called  to 
England,  which  now  seemed  utterly  out  of  the 
question,  or  to  the  throne  of  Poland,  which  seemed 
probable  in  the  event  of  the  death  of  Sigismund 
Augustus  II.,  king  of  that  country.  The  count 
learned  from  the  governor  of  the  refusal  of  Anjou  to 
hearken  to  the  proposed  alliance  with  England ;  how 
Tavannes  had  suggested  to  Monsieur  that  it  would  be 


316  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

but  fitting  for  him  to  ask  Robert  Dudley,  Elizabeth's 
ambassador,  to  marry  Mile,  de  la  Chateauneuf, 
Anjou's  mistress,  as  an  exchange  of  courtesies ;  how 
the  king  had  urged  the  marriage  and  the  queen- 
mother  opposed  it ;  how  the  cavaliers  of  Anjou's  suite 
had  composed  epigrams  on  the  disparity  of  years  and 
the  want  of  personal  charms  in  Elizabeth ;  and  how 
Monsieur  had  finally  withdrawn  from  the  affair  on 
religious  grounds. 

The  arrival  at  court,  in  August,  of  the  Amiral  de 
Coligny  offered  Chabanes  grounds  for  hope,  in  the 
event  that  his  incarceration  had  been  a  result  of  the 
suspicion  that  he  was  a  Huguenot.  This  hope  was 
very  slight,  however,  and  it  soon  vanished  when  no 
word  came  to  him,  notwithstanding  the  admiral  was 
held  in  high  favor  by  the  king,  and  the  Protestants 
were,  according  to  the  governor's  reports,  the  heroes 
of  the  hour. 

Summer  dragged  into  autumn,  Chabanes'  despair 
increasing  daily.  He  became  taciturn  and  melancholy 
to  the  verge  of  madness.  His  fellow-prisoners  and 
the  governor  failed  dismally  in  their  attempts  to  rally 
him  from  his  despondency.  He  was  no  longer  able 
to  interest  himself  in  them  or  in  books,  but  brooded 
constantly  over  his  galling  restraint  and  his  uncer- 
tainty in  regard  to  the  safety  of  Victoire  and  the 
affairs  of  the  prince. 

Finally,  when  winter  came,  he  grew  petulant  and 
often  almost  violent.  The  governor  noticed  this 
change  in  him,  as  did  every  one  else  about  the 
chateau.  One  day  he  approached  the  count,  who 
was  pacing  energetically  up  and  down  the  courtyard. 


A  RESTRAINT  AND  A  DELIVERANCE         317 

"  M.  le  Comte,"  he  said,  with  some  hesitation,  "  I 
have  never  asked  you  for  your  word  not  to  attempt 
to  escape.  In  view  of  the  unusual  liberties  you  enjoy 
here,  I  have  decided  that  it  is  my  duty  to  make  such 
a  request  of  you  now." 

"  I  give  you  my  word,  Monsieur,"  replied  the 
count,  coldly,  "  on  this  condition  :  that  if  opportunity 
of  escape  offers,  I  may  withdraw  my  word." 

"  Then  I  am  to  understand  that,  until  you  inform 
me  differently,  I  have  your  promise  to  make  no  such 
attempt?" 

"  Exactly." 

The  governor  withdrew  not  a  little  astonished  by 
the  singularity  of  the  count's  reply. 

It  was  January.  The  cold  north  wind  swept  down 
through  the  high-walled  courtyard  that  for  Chabanes 
had  so  long  formed  "  out-doors."  The  count,  muf- 
fled in  a  heavy  cloak,  spent  as  much  time  as  possible 
inhaling  the  crisp,  bracing  winter  air.  He  studied 
the  angles,  corridors,  and  architecture  of  the  Bastille 
as  he  had  never  done  since  his  incarceration.  He 
was  casting  about  him  for  a  plan  of  escape  as  his 
last  resort.  The  thought  that  he  could  not  recall  a 
single  instance  of  a  prisoner  evading  the  vigilance 
with  which  the  great  prison  was  surrounded  served 
only  to  increase  his  desire  and  determination.  He 
studied  the  habits  of  the  guards,  particularly  the 
one  that  had  been  assigned  to  him,  with  a  view  of 
using  them  to  his  purpose.  He  knew  the  distances 
from  the  sills  of  the  windows  to  the  ground  below, 
and  to  the  tops  of  the  walls,  as  accurately  as  if  he 


318  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

had  been  a  mason  or  an  architect.  He  had  cau- 
tiously tested  the  honesty  of  the  turnkeys  and  had 
found  them  all  incorruptible. 

One  day  a  new  guard  brought  him  his  breakfast, 
and  the  count  examined  him  closely.  He  was  a 
man  of  average  height,  fairly  well  muscled,  and  pre- 
possessing. He  wore  a  dark  beard  and  long  hair 
and  his  complexion  was  that  of  a  man  that  had 
passed  many  years  bareheaded  in  the  face  of  the 
elements.  His  hands  and  feet,  however,  were  too 
small  and  well  formed  to  be  those  of  a  peasant.  He 
left  the  cell  without  speaking  and  the  count  did  not 
address  him.  A  few  hours  later  the  count  met  the 
governor  in  the  latter's  library. 

"  You  have  a  new  guard,  I  note,  M.  le  Gouverneur," 
he  said,  carelessly.  "  Why  have  you  changed  ?  " 

"  This  one  is  a  friend  of  Giles,  the  old  guard,  and 
has  come  to  take  the  latter's  place  while  he  makes  a 
little  excursion  into  Picardy,  where  his  mother  lives. 
The  new  one  will  be  here  but  two  weeks,  at  the  end 
of  which  time  Giles  will  have  returned." 

"  I  was  not  aware  that  such  substitutions  were 
customary." 

"They  are  not,  Monsieur,"  replied  the  governor, 
frankly,  "  and  I  should  doubtless  receive  a  severe 
censure  were  it  generally  known  that  I  had  permitted 
this  one.  However,  Giles,  who  has  never  given  me 
the  least  cause  to  doubt  his  word,  vouched  for  this 
substitute,  whom  he  has  known  all  his  life,  and  I 
finally  consented  to  risk  him." 

That  evening  the  new  guard  brought  Chabanes' 
supper.  He  placed  it  carefully  on  the  table  and 


Mwdj& 

I  £-^ 


'IF   I   GO,   IT  WILL   BE  WHEN   YOU  ARE   FREE' 


A  RESTRAINT  AND  A   DELIVERANCE         319 

went  to  the  door,  but,  instead  of  going  out,  as  the 
count  expected  him  to,  he  took  the  key  cautiously 
from  the  outside,  closed  the  door  and  locked  it  from 
within.  Then  he  turned  and  approached  the  aston- 
ished count. 

"  Make  no  outcry,  Raoul,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone ; 
"  it  is  I,  Montpensier." 

Chabanes  started  to  his  feet  and  recoiled  several 
steps.  He  had  not  heard  that  voice  for  more  than 
a  year,  and  now  the  sound  of  it  dumbfounded  him. 
Montpensier  went  to  him  and  embraced  him;  little 
by  little  the  count  recovered  his  wits ;  finally,  he  fell 
back  in  his  chair,  exhausted  and  nerveless. 

"  Charles,"  he  said,  feebly,  "  this  is  more  than  I 
can  ever  deserve.  You  here  in  this  guise  risking 
your  life  for  me  !  The  thought  is  maddening.  You 
must  go  at  once." 

"  If  I  go,"  replied  the  prince,  firmly,  "  it  will  be 
when  you  are  free." 

"  Charles,"  persisted  Chabanes,  "  you  are  a  prince 
of  the  realm  and  a  subject  of  the  King  of  France. 
Your  services  belong  to  your  country  and  your  king. 
You  have  no  right  to  jeopardize  your  usefulness  in 
this  manner." 

"  Raoul,"  replied  the  prince,  calmly,  "  you  are  a  fool. 
I  will  listen  to  no  further  nonsense  from  you." 

Chabanes  uttered  a  sigh  of  resignation.  "  If  you 
will  have  it  so,"  he  said,  in  a  melancholy  tone,  "  I 
suppose  I  cannot  dissuade  you.  So  tell  me  at  once 
the  things  I  am  dying  to  know." 

"Victoire  is  well  and  sends  you  greetings.  Let 
that  suffice  for  the  present.  We  have  work  to  do." 


320  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  Tell  me  your  plans  at  once." 

"  They  are  simple.  To-morrow  morning  when  you 
go  to  the  governor's  library  you  will  carelessly  open 
the  large  chest  that  stands  opposite  the  door.  In  it 
is  kept  the  cast-off  clothing  of  the  turnkeys.  I  am 
unable  to  gain  access  to  it  unobserved.  You  must 
select  a  suitable  garb,  place  it  on  top  of  the  pile,  and 
close  the  chest,  without  being  perceived  by  any  one. 
After  that  there  is  nothing  left  for  us  but  to  wait  for 
an  opportunity  when  the  corridors  are  cleared  and 
you  may  gain  the  library  unseen  at  night.  I  have  a 
wig  and  a  false  beard  that  will  serve  to  disguise  you, 
and  I  will  give  you  the  password  and  my  commission 
as  guard.  Probably  the  former  will  suffice,  but  if 
you  are  too  closely  questioned  the  latter  will  doubt- 
less procure  you  a  means  of  egress  from  the  Bastille. 
If  you  are  discovered  you  can  use  the  pistols  I  have 
for  you." 

"And  when  1  am  outside  the  Bastille — ?"  asked 
Chabanes,  with  terrible  eagerness.  The  simplicity 
of  the  plan  was  incredible,  seemed  miraculous. 

"  Once  outside,  you  will  go  to  the  Cours-la-Reine, 
where  during  the  next  two  weeks  a  horse  already 
saddled  will  constantly  be  kept  for  you.  You  will 
pronounce  to  the  groom  the  single  word,  '  Mont- 
pensier,'  he  will  deliver  the  horse  to  you,  and  you  will 
make  all  speed  to  Champigny  by  the  posts." 

"And  you?" 

"  I  will  remain  at  the  Bastille  another  twenty-four 
hours  until  I  am  sure  you  are  safe  at  Champigny. 
Then  I  will  leave,  go  to  the  hdtel,  and  remove  this 
disguise  that  has  been  so  successful  in  concealing 


A  RESTRAINT  AND  A   DELIVERANCE         $21 

from  you,  of  all  persons,  my  identity.  Search  will 
be  made  for  the  missing  prisoner  and  the  guard  that 
assisted  in  his  escape.  One  will  be  safe  at  Cham- 
pigny,  whither  Victoire  has  just  gone,  and  the  other 
will  have  completely  vanished." 

,  "  But  how  are  you  going  to  prevent  the  governor 
from  knowing  that  I  have  gone  ?  " 

"  In  the  same  manner  that  your  valet,  Frangois, 
prevented  Victoire  from  knowing  that  you  had  gone 
to  Jarnac  to  save  my  life,"  replied  the  prince,  affec- 
tionately. The  count  blushed  furiously  and  averted 
his  eyes,  not  even  daring  to  ask  how  the  prince  had 
gained  this  information.  "  I  will  carry  you  your 
meals  and  report  you  indisposed  to  the  governor." 

"But  if  he  should  insist  on  visiting  me  here?" 

"  I  will  find  an  excuse  that  will  prevent  him  from 
doing  so." 

"And  what  of  Giles,  the  guard  whose  place  you 
have  taken  ?  " 

"  He  will  never  return  to  Paris.  He  has  retired  on 
an  annuity  into  Picardy." 

"  Charles,  I  cannot  accept  so  great  a  sacrifice  from 
you.  Do  you  not  realize  that  the  king  is  likely  to 
place  you  in  the  same  position  that  I  now  occupy, 
when  he  learns  you  are  harboring  an  escaped  pris- 
oner of  state,  a  man  accused  of  I  know  not  what 
treasons?" 

"  There  is  no  necessity  for  his  learning  of  your 
whereabouts,  at  least  not  until  he  can  be  prevailed  on 
to  grant  you  a  full  pardon.  The  servants  at  Cham- 
pigny  are  all  devoted  to  you,  and  they  will  never  reveal 
your  presence  there.  When  you  go  out  you  can 


322  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

always  be  disguised.  I  will  cause  the  report  to  be 
spread  at  court  that  you  have  been  heard  from  in 
England." 

Chabanes  felt  himself  obliged  to  yield. 

"  Do  you  agree  to  the  plans  ?  "  asked  the  prince, 
seeing  that  his  friend  was  weakening. 

"  On  condition  that  they  shall  not  be  carried  into 
effect  until  the  day  after  to-morrow.  I  have  to  with- 
draw from  the  governor  my  word  to  him  that  I  would 
not  attempt  to  escape." 

At  this  intelligence  Montpensier  sighed,  but  he  did 
not  at  once  reply.  He  feared  that  the  governor 
would  redouble  the  guard  in  that  part  of  the  fortress 
and  render  the  escape  impossible  as  planned,  but  he 
knew  that  the  count  would  remain  inexorable  in 
regard  to  his  word.  "  Very  well,"  he  said  at  length. 
"  Now  I  must  go,  or  I  may  be  suspected." 

He  bade  Chabanes  an  affectionate  good-night  and 
retired  cautiously. 

The  next  day,  when  the  governor  met  Chabanes  in 
the  courtyard  the  latter  was  in  high  spirits.  He  was 
humming  a  hunting  air  and  fairly  dancing  along 
rather  than  walking. 

"  M.  de  Chabanes  is  himself  again,"  thought  the 
governor,  and  he  invited  him  to  dine  with  him  that 
evening.  The  count  readily  accepted  the  invitation  — 
he  had  already  selected  his  disguise  from  the  great 
chest  in  the  library  —  and  at  dinner  that  night  he 
excelled  himself  in  repartee  and  wit.  As  he  was 
rising  at  a  late  hour  to  return  to  his  chamber,  he 
suddenly  changed  his  tone  and  said  solemnly,  "  M.  le 
Gouverneur,  I  regret  to  anounce  to  you  that  I  must 


A   RESTRAINT  AND  A   DELIVERANCE         323 

withdraw  my  word  that  I  would  not  attempt  to  escape 
from  your  fortress." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Monsieur?  "  asked  the  gover- 
nor, whose  wine  had  gone  a  little  to  his  head  and  who 
was  not  certain  that  he  had  heard  aright. 

"  Not  to  evince  any  lack  of  appreciation  of  your 
excellent  hospitality,  Monsieur,  as  I  hope  you  will 
understand.  What  I  mean  is  that  I  intend  to  escape." 

The  governor  glanced  incredulously  at  Chabanes. 
Then,  as  the  count  had  anticipated,  he  burst  out 
laughing  heartily. 

"  Monsieur,"  he  said,  rather  thickly,  "  your  humor 
is  too  much  for  me  to-night.  I  suppose  you  intend 
escaping  —  say,  to-morrow?  " 

"  Exactly,  Monsieur.     To-morrow  night." 

The  governor  laughed  again.  "  In  that  case,"  he 
said,  opening  the  door  for  the  count,  "  I  shall  lose  a 
most  pleasant  dinner-companion." 

"  Nevertheless,"  repeated  the  count,  seriously,  "  I 
withdraw  my  word,"  and  he  retired.  The  governor 
gave  the  matter  no  further  attention,  fully  believing 
that  the  count  was  jesting. 

In  the  passage  without,  Chabanes  found  Montpen- 
sier,  who  was  waiting  to  reconduct  the  prisoner  to 
his  chamber. 

When  they  had  arrived  there,  the  count  whispered 
to  his  friend,  "  To-morrow  night,"  to  which  the  latter, 
as  he  was  closing  the  door,  replied,  "  All  is  arranged." 

The  prince's  plans  worked  without  a  single  hitch. 
He  had  chosen  a  time  when  the  governor  was  in 
another  part  of  the  fortress,  and  Chabanes  had  ex- 
perienced no  difficulty  in  gaining  the  library  and 


324  4   PAR  FIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

drawing  on  the  clothing  he  had  selected  over  that  he 
already  wore.  He  passed  the  three  sentries  that  were 
on  duty  at  as  many  gates  and  at  length  gained  the 
street  and  freedom. 

The  sense  of  great  relief  emboldened  him,  and  he 
at  once  decided,  with  an  impulse  of  bravado,  to  try 
the  effect  of  his  disguise  on  the  first  person  he  recog- 
nized. As  he  was  passing  down  the  Rue  Saint-Denis 
chance  brought  him  face  to  face  with  the  Due  de 
Guise,  who,  with  several  gentlemen,  was  on  his  way 
to  the  Louvre.  The  count,  whose  new  garments  were 
all  in  rags  and  tatters  and  who  wore  a  flowing  white 
beard  and  a  shock  of  white  hair,  doffed  his  hat,  and, 
approaching  Guise,  whined,  "  Charity,  please." 

The  latter  responded  by  aiming  at  the  supposed 
beggar  a  blow  that  would  have  flattened  him  on  the 
pave  had  the  latter  not  nimbly  dodged.  The  count 
ran  off  down  the  street  laughing  mockingly,  and  Guise, 
whose  temper  was  ruffled,  ordered  one  of  his  gentle- 
men to  pursue  the  beggar  and  administer  to  him 
a  sound  thrashing.  Shortly  after,  the  gentleman 
returned  out  of  breath,  saying,  "  It  is  the  devil  him- 
self, Monseigneur ;  he  runs  like  Hermes !  " 


XXVIII 

A  RECITAL  AND  A  REQUEST 

/^HABANES  found  Montpensier's  horse  at  the 
^-^  Cours-la-Reine,  and  he  accomplished  the  jour- 
ney by  post  to  Champigny  without  incident.  He  was 
greeted  with  the  utmost  joy  by  Victoire,  who  would 
scarcely  allow  him  a  moment's  rest  before  she  insisted 
on  relating  to  him  everything  that  had  occurred  in 
France,  or  for  that  matter,  in  Europe,  during  his  long 
incarceration. 

The  night  after  his  arrival  they  were  seated  before 
the  fireplace  in  the  great  hall,  just  as  we  have  seen 
them  on  another  January  evening  three  years  before. 
Victoire  had  been  describing  the  events  that  occurred 
in  connection  with  the  marriage  of  the  king  and 
Elizabeth  of  Austria  at  Me"zieres,  and  had  gone  as  far 
as,  "  The  court  left  Villars-Cotterets  and  went  to 
Blois,"  when  she  was  interrupted  by  a  servant  who 
brought  a  message  that  had  just  been  received.  It 
was  from  the  prince  and  Chabanes  eagerly  tore  it 
open.  "All  is  well,"  it  said  simply. 

"  Thank  God  !  "  exclaimed  the  count,  fervently,  as 
he  handed  the  note  to  the  princess.  "  Now,  Victoire, 
I  feel  that  I  can  listen  to  you  with  all  my  attention." 

"  The  court  went  to  Blois,"  continued  Victoire,  at 
length,  "  on  the  first  of  April.  The  ambassadors  of 
Queen  Elizabeth  of  England  were  received  there,  and 


326  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

for  a  time  it  seemed  as  though  a  marriage  between 
Monsieur  and  the  queen  would  be  arranged.  At  any 
rate  Monsieur  was  the  hero  of  the  hour,  and  he  went 
about  everywhere  in  high  feather.  One  evening  he 
approached  me  in  the  queen-mother's  cabinet.  I 
was  standing  a  little  apart  from  the  others,  reflecting, 
I  believe,  on  the  manner  in  which  all  our  efforts  to 
secure  your  pardon  had  failed.  Monsieur  said, '  Why 
so  melancholy,  Mme.  de  Montpensier?' 

"  '  Monsieur  is  evidently  too  happy  this  evening 
for  me  to  burden  him  with  my  woes,'  I  replied. 

" '  On  the  contrary,'  said  he,  in  his  usual  tone  of 
flattery,  '  my  pleasure  at  being  the  confidant  of  Mme. 
de  Montpensier,  even  in  the  most  trivial  matter, 
would  exceed  all  other  possible  happiness.' 

"  I  was  struck  with  the  thought  that  perhaps  after 
all  I  could  prevail  on  him  to  use  his  influence  in  your 
behalf.  I  know  now  that  I  might  as  well  have  asked 
assistance  of  a  block  of  wood.  '  Monsieur,'  I  said,  as 
calmly  as  possible,  '  can  prove  the  truth  of  his  state- 
ment by  granting  me  a  slight  favor.' 

"  '  Which  is  —  ?  '  asked  he. 

" '  That  you  seek  from  the  king  a  pardon  for  my 
friend,  the  Comte  de  Chabanes.' 

"  The  duke  whistled  deprecatingly  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  '  That  is  a  very  large  favor,  Madame,' 
he  replied. 

"  'Nevertheless,  you  will  grant  it,  will  you  not? '  I 
pleaded. 

" '  Let  us  walk  in  the  corridor  here,  Madame,  and 
reflect,'  said  he,  and  I  followed  him  hopefully.  For 
several  minutes  we  walked  in  silence.  Suddenly, 


A   RECITAL   AND  A  REQUEST  327 

when  we  had  come  opposite  a  curtained  alcove,  he 
stopped  and,  drawing  me  within,  said,  in  a  tone  and 
with  a  look  that  I  know  not  how  to  describe,  '  What 
favor  will  you  grant  me  in  return,  Madame  ? ' 

"Though  I  was  terrified  by  his  demeanor,  I 
responded  as  bravely  as  I  knew  how,  '  You  will 
possess  my  everlasting  gratitude,  Monsieur.' 

"  '  It  is  not  gratitude  that  I  desire,  Madame,  as  you 
well  know,'  said  he,  with  a  horrible  leer  that  set  me 
to  trembling  with  a  nameless  terror.  He  attempted 
to  put  his  arm  around  me  and  I  was  on  the  point  of 
screaming,  when  I  heard  the  voice  of  Charles  without. 
Monsieur  jumped  away  from  me  as  though  he  had 
been  shot  and  left  me  as  the  prince  came  in  sight, 
saying,  '  I  am  willing  to  exchange  favors  with  you, 
Madame,  whenever  you  are  willing.' 

"  I  told  Charles  about  the  incident  at  once  and  he 
—  well,  he  fell  into  one  of  those  odd  fits  of  anger 
that  one  never  knows  the  exact  cause  of,  and  insisted 
that  I  should  avoid  Monsieur  as  I  would  a  serpent, 
which  I  certainly  intended  to  do." 

Chabanes  was  heart-sick  on  hearing  this  recital.  It 
pained  him  beyond  expression  to  think  that,  for  his 
sake,  Victoire  had  been  exposed  to  such  insults. 

"  M.  de  Guise  exerted  every  effort  with  both  the 
king  and  Monsieur,"  continued  Victoire.  "  Charles, 
though  he  has  worked  tirelessly  to  secure  your  release, 
has  maintained  his  old  attitude  toward  M.  de  Guise, 
and  it  was  on  the  latter's  account,  I  am  sure,  as  well 
as  on  account  of  your  coming,  that  I  was  sent  here  to 
be  alone  and  a  prisoner  while  every  one  else  is  being 
very  happy  at  court" 


328  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"Were  you,  then,  very  happy  at  court,  Victoire?" 
asked  the  count. 

"  Of  course,  not  when  you  were  in  prison,  Raoul, 
but  I  should  enjoy  being  at  Paris  very  much,  now 
that  I  know  you  are  free." 

"From  what  do  you  derive  the  greatest  pleasure? 
From  the  balls  and  masques?" 

"  No,  from  the  daily  life ;  from  the  conversation 
with  clever  persons." 

"Such  as—  ?"' 

"  Such  as  —  oh,  everybody !    Such  as  M.  de  Guise." 

Chabancs  hastened  to  change  the  subject.  "  Charles 
will  not  return  to  Champigny  at  once?"  he  asked. 
He  had  had  no  opportunity  of  discussing  with  the 
prince  the  latter 's  plans. 

"  He  believes  not  until  summer." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  will  have  a  dull  time  of  it  here 
alone  with  me,  Victoire,"  said  the  count,  sadly. 

"  Raoul,"  she  cried,  in  disappointment,  "  how  can 
you  say  such  a  thing?  Some  of  the  happiest  moments 
of  my  life  have  been  spent  here  in  this  spot  convers- 
ing with  you.  You  are  the.  best  friend  I  have  in  the 
world,  and  if  you  knew  the  never-ceasing  want  I  have 
felt  during  all  this  last  year,  I  am  sure  you  would 
never  doubt  me.  Indeed,  I  know  no  others,  except 
M.  de  Guise,  in  whom  I  can  take  more  than  a  passing 
interest.  Ah,  if  you  only  knew  how  I  have  suffered 
for  you,  alone  in  that  gloomy  prison  for  more  than  a 
year,  you  would  not  say  that  I  would  be  unhappy 
with  you !  " 

"And  you  would  as  lief  be  with  me  here  as  at 
court  with  M.  de  Guise?" 


A  AECITAL  AND  A  KEQUEST  329 

"I  —  I  would  like  to  have  you  both  with  me 
always,"  said  Victoire,  naively.  "  You  occupy  such 
entirely  different  places  in  my  heart  —  I  cannot 
explain  it,  but  I  always  want  to  know  that  I  have 
two  such  good  and  such  —  different  friends." 

The  count  felt  the  old  jealousy  steal  over  him; 
his  hatred  of  Guise  awoke  with  doubled  fury.  He 
was  again  filled  with  the  impulse  to  denounce  the 
man  whose  whole  life  was  a  lie  and  who  so  artfully 
misled  and  deceived  Victoire;  and,  as  before,  this 
impulse  was  met  by  his  firm  resolution  to  do  nothing 
that  was  prompted  by  selfish  jealousy.  As  before, 
he  remained  silent. 

"You  have  a  brave  husband,  Victoire,"  he  said, 
at  length.  "  Few  men  in  France  would  have  had 
the  courage  to  attempt  such  an  escape  as  he  planned 
and  executed  for  me.  I  shall  never  be  able  to  dis- 
charge the  obligations  I  am  under  to  him." 

"  Fie,  Raoul,"  replied  the  princess,  "  you  have 
made  him  your  debtor  long  before  this.  Are  you 
not  ashamed  to  have  kept  from  me  so  long  your  part 
in  the  battle  of  Jarnac?** 

Chabanes  thanked  the  lengthening  shadows  for 
concealing  his  blushes.  "  How  did  you  learn  of  it?  " 
he  asked. 

"I  was  one  day  talking  to  Charles  about  your 
illness  at  that  time,  and  how  excited  I  grew  over 
your  failure  to  appear  for  so  many  days.  He  was 
struck  with  surprise  and  questioned  me  eagerly  about 
the  length  of  your  illness  and  the  time  that  I  found 
you.  Then  he  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of  the  greatest 
joy,  '  It  was  he  ! '  and  began  dancing  about  the  room 


33O  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

like  a  madman.  When  he  had  at  length  sufficiently 
regained  his  composure,  he  told  me  the  story  of  the 
man  that  had  saved  his  life  at  Jarnac,  and  pointed 
out  that  the  armor  and  the  time  of  your  illness,  as 
well  as  the  bearing  of  the  man  at  Jarnac,  and  your 
feigned  indifference  whenever  he  had  mentioned  the 
subject  to  you,  were  conclusive  evidence  against 
you." 

Shortly  afterward  the  count  retired  to  his  apart- 
ments, where  the  faithful  Frangois  awaited  him  as  of 
yore. 

There  was  something  in  Chabanes'  manner  that 
led  Victoire  to  reflect  profoundly  that  night,  with  the 
result  that  she  concluded  that  his  long  incarceration 
had  in  a  measure  estranged  him  from  her.  She 
noticed  that  he  often  became  reticent  during  their 
conversations,  failing,  however,  to  remark  that  such 
periods  occurred  only  after  the  mention  of  Guise  by 
herself.  She  could  not  guess  that  he  was  in  constant 
fear  of  losing  his  self-control  and  denouncing  the  duke 
in  such  fashion  as  that  to  which  his  feelings  prompted 
him,  but  that  his  pride  and  chivalry  forbade.  Silence 
became  his  sole  resort  and  safeguard,  and  she  blindly 
attributed  his  manner  to  a  growing  coldness.  As  a 
result  she  herself  became  cold  toward  her  friend, 
and  he  also  failed  to  understand.  With  equal  blind- 
ness his  feelings  led  him  into  a  belief  and  fear  that 
Guise  had  taken  advantage  of  the  past  year  to  usurp 
that  place  in  Victoire's  affections  that  had  formerly 
belonged  to  Chabanes.  He  felt  that,  could  Mont- 
pensier  have  been  the  successful  rival,  even  in  the 
torments  of  jealousy  he  could  have  found  a  content. 


A   RECITAL  AND  A   REQUEST  331 

But  the  successful  one,  doubtless,  was  the  unworthy 
Guise. 

Chabanes  early  divined  that  Victoire  longed  to  be 
in  communication  with  the  duke.  Indeed,  in  the 
unconscious  despair  aroused  by  what  she  considered 
Chabanes'  coldness,  this  desire  on  the  part  of  the 
princess  had  greatly  augmented.  She  was  unable 
longer  to  find  in  the  count  the  sympathy  she  had 
always  expected  and  received  from  him.  She  was 
filled  with  sorrow  and  her  thoughts  turned  to  Guise. 
Perhaps  he  could  supply  what  her  nature  so  ardently 
craved. 

So  it  happened  that  time  did  not  pass  as  smoothly 
at  Champigny  as  it  had  done  before  the  count  and 
the  princess  had  gone  to  the  court  at  Paris.  Melan- 
choly began  to  weave  its  insidious  tendrils  about  the 
hearts  of  both. 

On  one  occasion  Chabanes  ventured  to  ask  Victoire 
if  she  never  heard  from  Guise.  She  brightened  per- 
ceptibly and  expressed  a  regret  that  fear  of  the  jeal- 
ousy of  the  prince,  who,  she  was  confident,  watched 
through  his  agents  her  every  move,  had  so  far  pre- 
vented her  from  even  receiving  the  tiniest  note  from 
Guise. 

With  this  regret  there  also  grew  up  in  the  princess' 
mind  a  deep  sense  of  indignation  and  resentment 
against  the  policy  of  her  husband  in  distrusting  and 
spying  on  her.  This  the  count  did  not  at  once  see. 
Instead,  he  continued  to  attribute  the  gradual  estrange- 
ment of  himself  and  Victoire  solely  to  his  own  dis- 
placement by  Guise. 

Not  for  an  instant,  however,  could  Chabanes  bring 


332  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

himself  to  believe  that,  during  his  incarceration,  the 
relations  of  Victoire  and  Guise  had  become  more 
serious  than  they  had  been  from  the  very  first. 
Victoire,  he  felt,  was  incapable  of  practised  deceit, 
and  he  also  placed  so  much  reliance  in  the  knowledge 
he  possessed  of  her  character  as  to  consider  it  impos- 
sible that  he  should  be  even  momentarily  misled  by 
her.  He  saw  in  the  relations  of  the  two,  therefore,  only 
the  hero-worship  and  the  indefinite  longing  for  admira- 
tion and  sympathy  that  had  possessed  Victoire  at  first, 
and  the  unscrupulous  and  deceitful  passion  of  Guise. 

One  day  in  February,  when  the  princess  had  been 
speaking  to  Chabanes  of  inconsequential  things  in  an 
absent  fashion  that  betrayed  her  preoccupation,  the 
count  was  suddenly  startled  as  he  had  never  been  in 
all  his  life  by  a  proposition  Victoire  made  him. 

"  Raoul,"  she  said,  with  evident  premeditation,  "  I 
am  sure  you  have  been  disappointed  in  me  of  late, 
finding  me  changed  and  unnatural.  Of  course  you 
have  noticed  the  transformation  that  has  come  over 
me,  for  it  has  been  only  too  apparent  to  myself.  I 
think  it  is  all  due  to  the  fact  that  we  have  dropped 
out  of  the  habit  of  confiding  in  each  other,  and, 
strangely  enough,  have  had  difficulty  in  recovering  it. 
I  am  going  to  ask  you  something  that  will  doubtless 
astonish  you,  but  which  I  feel  sure  you  will  not  deem 
unworthy." 

Chabanes  was  at  a  loss  to  know  what  Victoire  had 
in  mind.  He  felt  intuitively  that  a  blow  was  coming, 
and  he  nerved  himself  with  all  his  strength  to  receive 
the  impact.  "  I  hope  you  may  never  fear  to  be  per- 
fectly frank  with  me,"  he  said,  simply. 


A   RECITAL  AND  A  REQUEST  333 

"  I  have  expressed  to  you  often  enough  my  admira- 
tion and  liking  for  the  Due  de  Guise  and  I  have 
always  felt  that  you  sympathized  with  me  whenever 
the  jealousy  which  Charles  has  several  times  so  un- 
reasonably exhibited  gave  me  pain.  Naturally,  your 
position  as  the  most  devoted  friend  of  both  him  and 
myself  has  prevented  your  taking  a  stand  against 
either  of  us,  but  I  never  could  believe  but  that  you 
realized,  as  did  I,  the  unjustness  of  the  prince's 
anger.  Before  I  left  Paris,  as  a  result  of  this  same 
causeless  anger,  the  Due  de  Guise  expressed  a  sincere 
desire  to  write  to  me  occasionally  in  order  that  we 
might  both  be  pleasantly  reminded  of  our  true  friend- 
ship. The  desire  that  this  wish  of  his  might  be  ful- 
filled has  constantly  haunted  me  since  my  return 
here.  I  believe  I  shall  not  be  myself  until  I  may  thus 
gratify  not  only  one  that  has  shown  me  every  atten- 
tion and  kindness,  but  myself." 

She  paused  and  looked  anxiously  at  Chabanes  as 
though  she  knew  not  how  to  continue.  He  was  con- 
scious only  of  the  violent  tempest  of  jealousy  and 
despair  that  her  words  aroused  within  him,  but  he 
concealed  his  feelings  with  that  power  of  dissimula- 
tion that  belongs  only  to  the  strongest  temperaments. 
"  Victoire,"  he  said,  gently,  "  go  on." 

"  Well,  in  short,  Raoul,  as  you  know,  I  am  not  able 
to  receive  or  despatch  a  single  letter  without  my  hus- 
band at  once  hearing  of  it.  He  warned  me  that  he 
would  take  every  precaution  to  prevent  my  communi- 
cating with  M.  de  Guise.  However,  I  wish  to  hear 
from  and  write  to  the  duke,  as  is  my  right,  and,  since 
my  husband  is  so  unreasonable  and  so  lacking  in  self- 


334  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

control,  I  do  not  wish  him  to  know  of  the  correspond- 
ence. Raoul,  will  you  receive  and  deliver  the  letters 
M.  de  Guise  and  I  write  to  each  other?" 

The  sudden  directness  of  the  question  almost  dis- 
sipated the  count's  wonderful  self-control.  For  a 
moment  he  dared  not  reply.  He  gripped  the  arms 
of  his  chair  fiercely  in  a  final  effort  both  to  realize 
the  full  import  of  her  words  and  retain  his  self- 
mastery. 

"  It  is  only  after  due  deliberation,"  she  continued, 
"  and  because  I  am  aware  that  your  knowledge  of  me 
teaches  you  that  I  am  incapable  of  dishonorable 
action,  that  I  ask  you  this.  I  am  not  ashamed  of  my 
friendship  for  the  duke ;  I  only  regret  my  husband's 
ungovernable  temper.  Were  he  reasonable  he  would 
not  thus  deprive  me  of  an  innocent  pleasure  and 
cause  me  to  ignore  a  faithful  friend.  You  believe 
with  me  that  I  am  in  the  right,  do  you  not,  Raoul?" 

Still  Chabanes  did  not  at  once  reply.  He  longed 
to  be  able  to  denounce  to  Victoire  the  man  she  so 
greatly  admired,  but  still  his  chivalrous  sense  of 
honor  forbade  it ;  it  was  not  Chabanes'  wont  to  speak 
ill  of  the  absent,  nor  was  he  confident  of  his  ability 
to  accomplish  more,  in  exposing  Guise,  than  to  cause 
the  princess  much  unconvinced  pain.  Denunciation 
was  hardly  a  weapon  that  he  was  fitted  to  handle. 
Besides,  he  was  very  jealous,  knowing  why  the  prin- 
cess so  admired  Guise,  and  suffering  because  she 
seemed  to  prefer  what  the  duke  offered,  and  what  was 
in  reality  worse  than  worthless,  to  the  prejudice  of 
the  boundless  love  and  sympathy  that  Chabanes  was 
constantly  and  reverently  laying  at  her  feet.  In  the 


A  RECITAL   AND  A   REQUEST  335 

face  of  his  jealousy  and  indignation  that  Victoire 
should  be  blind  alike  to  what  was  true  in  his  love  and 
vile  in  that  of  Guise,  he  was  filled  with  a  desire  to 
preserve  her  from  all  discomfort.  Her  life  was  so 
sadly  lacking  in  that  of  which  she  constantly  showed 
the  need  and  craving,  and  he  that  could  satisfy  the 
necessity  was  hopelessly  handicapped  by  fate,  or 
circumstances,  or  whatever  you  may  call  it;  what 
wonder  if  he  longed  to  compensate  her  in  every  way 
that  still  remained  possible? 

But  his  soul  revolted  at  the  secrecy  of  the  mission 
she  asked  him  to  undertake.  It  was  evident  to  him 
that  during  his  imprisonment  she  had  suffered  much 
at  the  hands  of  her  husband's  insensate  jealousy ;  his 
heart  ached  with  sympathy  for  her;  his  soul  was 
filled  with  remorse,  as  though  he  had  been  in  some 
way  to  blame  for  his  detention  and  consequent 
inability  to  save  her  from  such  suffering. 

Yes,  he  agreed  with  her  that  she  had  a  perfect 
right  to  hear  from  M.  de  Guise,  for  he  felt  that  her 
conception  of  her  relationships  with  Guise  was  that 
of  the  most  unselfish  and  disinterested  friendship. 
Why  would  Montpensier  not  realize  how  the  very 
innocence  of  his  matchless  wife  precluded  all  possi- 
bility of  jealousy  on  his  part?  What  advantage  did 
the  impulsive  prince  expect  to  gain  by  so  hedging  in 
his  wife's  liberty? 

"Victoire,  I  trust  you  above  all  persons  in  the 
world,  and  yet  I  like  not  the  secrecy  of  such  a  corre- 
spondence as  you  propose.  Why  not  conduct  it 
openly?  Surely  reason  will  move  the  prince." 

His  tone  was  unconvincing;  it  was  all  too  evident 


336  A  PARFIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

that  he  was  trying  to  argue  himself  into  an  impossible 
belief. 

"  Raoul,  no  one  knows  better  than  you  that  Charles 
is  without  reason  in  this  matter." 

The  count  was  forced  to  admit  the  truth  of  the 
statement.  Montpensier  was  entirely  unreasonable. 

Victoire  arose  and  went  to  his  side ;  then  she  seated 
herself  on  a  stool  and  leaned  her  elbows  on  the  arm 
of  his  chair.  She  looked  imploringly  into  the  count's 
thoughtful  eyes. 

"  I  sometimes  believe,  Raoul,  that  it  is  not  for  the 
sake  of  hearing  from  M.  de  Guise,  or  of  doing  justice 
to  the  friendship  that  we  have  always  maintained,  as 
much  as  for  the  sake  of  asserting  the  pride  that  chafes 
under  the  injustice  of  Charles'  demands.  I  know  I 
shall  be  utterly  wretched  until  I  have  freed  myself 
from  this  slavish  sense  of  oppression  that  the  memory 
of  his  untrusting  words  casts  over  me.  Carry  one 
letter  to  M.  de  Guise,  Raoul,  and  bring  me  an 
answer.  You  shall  read  both.  If  they  in  any  way 
merit  the  suspicion  with  which  my  husband  has  re- 
garded such  a  correspondence  you  will  frankly  tell 
me  and  I  will  give  it  up  for  all  time." 

"  Perhaps  your  husband  is  in  a  better  position  to 
judge,  Victoire,  not  only  in  regard  to  the  correspon- 
dence but  to  the  man  to  whom  he  objects." 

"  I  do  not  think  that  possible,  Raoul ;  I  believe 
that  I  am  in  every  way  capable  of  judging  them,  and 
that  I  have  had  every  opportunity." 

"  Charles  loves  you  dearly,"  persisted  Chabanes, 
sorrowfully. 

"  Yes,  but  it  is  a  selfish  love  in  which  there  is  no 


A   RECITAL  AND  A  REQUEST  337 

trust,  and  I  lack  faith  in  a  passion  that  inspires,  instead 
of  absolute  confidence,  constant  suspicion.  Besides,  it 
is  a  poor  lover  that  seeks  to  hold  his  mistress  by  force." 

"  But  you  are  his  wife." 

"  Yes,  Raoul,  but  not  his  slave.  Heaven  knows  I 
have  fought  a  hard  battle  to  be  his  wife  as  you  have 
taught  me  to  be ;  and  in  return  I  am  rewarded  only 
with  distrust  and  tyranny  that  are  unendurable." 

Chabanes  reflected  for  some  moments.  At  length 
Victoire  asked,  earnestly,  "  Will  you  do  it,  Raoul?" 

"  No,  Victoire ;  I  like  it  not ;  there  is  evil  in  it." 
He  spoke  laboredly ;  evidently  it  pained  him  greatly 
to  refuse. 

Victoire  sighed  reproachfully  and  arose.  A  servant 
passed  the  door  and  she  called  after  him;  instantly 
he  reappeared. 

"  Emile,"  she  said,  determinedly,  "  I  desire  you  to 
carry  a  letter  for  me ;  I  will  have  it  ready  in  a  few 
moments.  You  may  wait  for  it." 

She  seated  herself  at  a  table  and  began  to  write ; 
the  count's  heart  sank  as  he  watched  her  hurriedly 
indite  and  seal  the  short  missive.  Montpensier  would 
at  once  learn  of  this  letter  to  Guise;  Chabanes 
pictured  the  sufferings  of  his  friend.  The  prince 
would  be  beside  himself  with  anger  and  jealousy ;  he 
would  do  the  first  rash  deed  that  suggested  itself. 

"  fimile,"  said  the  count,  "  you  may  go." 

The  lackey  looked  uncertainly  to  his  mistress. 

She  was  about  to  detain  him  angrily,  but  she  caught 
Chabanes'  eye  and  refrained.  The  count's  face  was 
set  with  resolution.  "  Go !  "  he  repeated,  and  fimile 
vanished. 


338  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  You  shall  not  do  this,  Victoire." 

"  Raoul,  you  are  cruel.  Carry  just  this  one  note 
for  me." 

"  No." 

"  Please." 

"  I  cannot." 

She  came  close  to  him  and  looked  imploringly  into 
his  eyes.  "  Will  you  not  reserve  your  decision  until 
you  have  reflected  well?" 

"  I  have  already  done  so." 

"  Ah,  but,  Raoul,  do  not  decide  finally  until  to- 
morrow, at  least.  Think  well  of  all  I  have  said  to 
you.  I  know  you  will  change  your  mind.  At  any 
rate,  promise  to  reflect." 

"  I  will  reflect,  Victoire,  and  so  must  you,  —  on  my 
words.  I  can  tell  you  now  that  my  decision  will  not 
change." 

"  Well,  let  us  see." 


XXIX 

A  QUARREL  AND  A  REPENTANCE 

f  I  VHE  following  morning  Chabanes  found  Victoire 
•••  radiant  with  smiles,  awaiting  him  in  the  great 
hall.  So  sincere  was  her  belief  in  the  propriety  of 
her  position  and  the  equity  of  Chabanes  that  she  really 
expected  that  he  would  have  decided  to  agree  to  her 
proposition. 

"  I  have  not  changed  my  mind,"  he  said,  simply 
and  gently.  She  was  so  beautiful  in  her  confident 
expectancy ;  it  seemed  such  cruelty  to  wound  her  with 
disappointment. 

For  an  instant  petulant  tears  dimmed  her  blue  eyes. 
Then  her  face  assumed  an  expression  of  resolution. 

"  Very  well  ;  I  shall  risk  the  servants.  This  time 
you  must  not  interfere." 

"  Victoire,  be  rational,  I  beg  of  you.  What  you 
propose  is  sheerest  madness.  As  you  value  your  own 
happiness  and  your  husband's,  I  implore  you  not  to 
do  this  rash  thing.  You  do  not  understand  its  signi- 
ficance or  you  could  not  have  asked  me  to  dishonor 
myself  by  playing  the  part  you  suggested,  nor  could 
you  so  easily  jeopardize  your  own  self." 

"  I  am  determined,  Raoul." 

Chabanes  grew  more  and  more  desperate.  "  Vic- 
toire," he  pleaded  in  anguish,  "  pity  me  a  little.  I  am 


34O  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

tortured  at  seeing  you  so  blind  to  your  own  welfare.  I 
am  no  longer  as  much  to  you  as  I  always  was.  I  see 
you  grow  daily  more  unhappy  and  I  can  cause  you  not 
the  slightest  pleasure.  Can  you  not  see  how  I  suffer 
for  you?  Will  you  not  try  to  consider  how  terribly 
you  are  constantly  wounding  me?  I  am  weak  —  God 
knows  it  no  better  than  I !  —  but  I  have  tried  to 
stifle  my  jealousy  and  to  crush  every  selfish  or  rebel- 
lious impulse,  that  I  might,  in  some  measure,  bring 
happiness  to  yourself  and  to  my  friend.  Pity  me,  for 
I  suffer  terribly.  I  am  conscience-stricken  and  jealous 
—  you  do  not  know  what  that  means  !  I  love  you." 

"  Monsieur,"  said  the  princess,  turning  on  him  in 
petulant  anger,  "  without  reproaching  you  I  permitted 
you  to  address  me  in  this  manner  once  before.  I 
shall  never  do  so  again,  I  promise  you.  I  had  hoped 
you  would  fully  realize  your  position." 

"  My  position  !  "  exclaimed  Chabanes,  passionately. 
"  Heaven  knows  the  realization  of  it  is  crushing  out 
my  life  !  My  position  is  that  of  the  confidant  whose 
worn-out  sympathy  is  discarded,  and  who  is  valued 
only  as  the  executor  of  doubtful  missions !  Would 
you  make  me  add  to  my  own  guilt?  " 

Chabanes'  load  of  woe  could  not  admit  of  this  ad- 
ditional grief  without  a  protest.  He  was  like  an 
animal,  panting,  exhausted,  at  bay.  His  temper  had 
mastered  him  for  the  first  time  since  he  was  a  child. 
White  with  rage  at  the  mistreatment  to  which  Vic- 
toire's  petulance  and  his  own  weakness  had  subjected 
him,  he  left  the  chateau  and  rode  at  a  terrific  speed 
to  Chinon,  where  there  resided  an  old  retainer  of  his 
house,  a  retired  bourgeois  inn-keeper,  Maitre  Carti- 


A    QUARREL  AND  A   REPENTANCE  341 

gnac.  The  count  no  longer  had  even  his  dog  con- 
fidant, Hercules  having  necessarily  been  left  behind 
at  the  Bastille. 

At  Chinon,  after  he  had  in  a  fashion  regained  the 
mastery  of  a  temper  that  once  unchecked  was  like  a 
terrible  storm,  he  sat  down  and  wrote  to  Victoire. 

"  My  dear  Victoire,"  the  letter  ran,  "  after  the  incident  of 
yesterday  you  will  realize  that  it  is  utterly  impossible  that  I 
should  remain  longer  at  Champigny.  I  do  not  know  where 
I  shall  go  or  what  I  shall  do.  I  regret  with  all  my  heart  that 
I  have  laid  myself  liable  to  your  anger,  as  I  regret  that 
change  in  you  that  has  rendered  you  unable,  in  the  midst  of 
your  own  desires  and  misfortunes,  to  give  either  your  hus- 
band's wishes  or  my  own  feelings  a  moment's  thought.  I 
can  only,  in  expressing  the  hope  that  God  may  guide  and 
protect  you,  bid  you  an  utterly  unhappy  and  irrevocable 
farewell.  RAOUL." 

Victoire  received  the  count's  message  after  a  sleep- 
less night,  during  which  her  conscience  had  tortured 
her  beyond  measure  for  the  ruthless  manner  in  which 
she  had  replied  to  her  faithful  friend's  devotion.  She 
recalled  every  attribute  of  Chabanes,  always  the  soul 
of  honor  and  chivalry  and  good,  gladly  risking  his 
life  for  his  friends,  and  ever  sparing  his  enemies. 
She  thought  of  the  innumerable  pleasures  he  was 
always  contriving  for  her,  the  unfailing  advice  he 
always  offered  her,  the  unlimited  fidelity  of  his  devo- 
tion to  her  husband  and  herself.  Memory  pictured  to 
her  in  a  thousand  attitudes  the  Comte  de  Chabanes  at 
court  or  at  Champigny,  always  the  accomplished,  tact- 
ful courtier,  always  a  nobleman  whose  sense  of  truth  and 
honor  so  far  surpassed  that  of  every  other  in  France,  ex- 


342  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

cepting  possibly  M.  de  Guise  —  ever  that  belief!  —  and 
always  a  man  to  whom  her  heart  went  out  in  admira- 
tion that  she  now  felt  was  more  than  she  had  ever 
realized.  Life  without  Chabanes,  while  he  lay  in  the 
Bastille,  had  been,  even  in  the  busy  whirl  of  court  life 
and  intrigue,  wretchedly  lacking  and  incomplete. 
Now,  alone,  at  Champigny,  cut  off  from  Guise,  mis- 
trusted by  her  unappreciative  husband,  with  no  one  to 
advise  her,  no  one  in  whom  to  confide,  no  one  to  offer 
true  sympathy,  she  felt  that  life  would  be  unbearable. 
On  receiving  the  count's  letter  she  bade  the  bearer 
wait,  and  shortly  after  he  carried  to  Chabanes  this 
reply :  — 

"  Forgive  me,  Raoul,  for  what  was  done  impulsively,  when  I 
was  scarcely  myself.  I  realize  that,  after  my  rudeness,  you 
will  find  it  difficult  in  your  heart  to  return,  but,  believe  me, 
I  have  not  slept  for  thinking  of  you  and  the  inestimable  value 
of  your  friendship.  Please  come  back  to  Champigny,  if  it  is 
only  for  an  hour.  We  have  been  too  much  to  each  other  to 
part  thus.  Heaven  knows  I  need  you  more  than  I  can  ever 
adequately  express !  " 

How  she  did  need  him,  and  how  long  it  took  her  to 
fully  realize  it ! 

This  reply  was  more  than  Chabanes  had  expected. 
Each  word  of  it  brought  back  to  him  a  charm  of 
Victoire  's  that  had  long  since  been  enshrined  in  his 
memory.  He  also  had  passed  a  sleepless  night, 
torn  one  minute  by  remorse  and  by  a  wounded 
pride  that  made  him  feel  that  he  could  never  forgive 
the  insult  it  had  received,  and  the  next  by  a  fierce, 
wild  longing  to  go  to  Victoire,  throw  himself  on  his 


A    QUARREL   AND  A   REPENTANCE  343 

knees  before  her,  and  implore  her  forgiveness.  He 
nervously  read  the  letter  several  times ;  then  he 
walked  the  floor  of  his  chamber  for  more  than  an 
hour.  In  the  end  his  love  triumphed.  From  a 
slightly  different  viewpoint  he  reached  the  same  con- 
clusion at  which  Victoire  had  arrived,  —  that  life 
alone  would  be  unbearable. 

When  he  reached  the  banks  of  the  Vienne  Victoire 
was  there  on  horseback,  attended  by  a  single  groom. 

"  I  knew  you  would  return,  Raoul !  "  she  cried,  with 
unrestrained  pleasure.  "  I  have  been  so  thoughtless, 
—  so  ungrateful." 

His  happiness  was  intense;  the  evidence  of  her 
valuation  of  his  friendship  was  too  great  and  too 
sincere  for  him  to  doubt  it.  She  told  him  that  she 
readily  relinquished  her  plan  to  correspond  with 
Guise,  acknowledged  that  she  had  been  wrong,  and 
begged  his  continued  advice  and  confidence.  For 
many  days  the  conditions  at  Champigny  were  more 
of  the  old  harmony  of  their  first  years  there.  Cha- 
banes  again  became  Victoire's  confidant  and  the 
horizon  of  both  was  for  a  time  cloudless. 

But  the  princess  had  not  forgotten  her  liking  for 
the  Due  de  Guise  nor  her  indignation  toward  her 
husband.  Soon  the  old  desire  to  communicate  with 
the  duke  and  to  be  freed  from  the  slightest  restraint 
Montpensier  could  impose  on  her  burst  out  with 
increased  strength  in  the  heart  of  Victoire.  She  again 
felt  herself  in  the  right  and  the  count  in  the  wrong,  and 
her  confidences  gradually  became  more  rare.  With 
the  realization  of  this  return  of  the  old  discontent 
grew  Chabanes'  hopelessness.  The  tenderness  and 


344  A   P^KFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

consideration  with  which  Victoire  regarded  him  began 
to  lack  spontaneity.  Vaguely  the  fear  arose  in  him 
that  the  memory  of  Guise  was  crowding  out  of 
Victoire's  heart  all  other  interests.  In  vain  Chabanes 
sought  to  promote  the  happiness  of  the  princess; 
and  he  failed  utterly  in  his  attempt  to  arouse  in  her  a 
stronger  and  a  more  charitable  sense  of  duty  to  her 
husband. 

Antoinette  de  Lerac  played  a  small  part  in  the 
affairs  of  Champigny,  though  her  life  sorrow  was 
none  the  less  daily  augmented.  Resigned  to  the 
disappointment  that  her  unfortunate  passion  had 
incurred,  she  had  lived  in  the  hope  of  witnessing  the 
success  and  happiness  of  the  object  of  her  adoration. 
Instead  she  saw  the  Comte  de  Chabanes  daily  stoop- 
ing under  a  weight  of  sorrow  that  could  end  only  by 
completely  crushing  him.  She  had  seen  with  grief 
that  his  imprisonment  had  wrought  great  changes  in 
his  appearance,  though  not  in  his  convictions,  and 
she  now  witnessed  with  infinite  pain  increasing  lines 
of  care  and  grief  seaming  his  noble  forehead  and  the 
further  whitening  of  his  hair,  as  he  almost  uncon- 
sciously fell  into  that  lethargy  of  mind  and  body  that 
was  the  natural  result  of  his  position.  With  the  quick 
intuition  of  a  woman's  love  she  realized  what  he  suf- 
fered, and  her  heart,  bound  by  every  condition  to 
eternal  silence,  held  out  its  throbbing  sympathy,  im- 
ploring him  to  accept  it,  but  always  unheeded.  She 
went  about  her  daily  tasks  patiently  and  sadly,  un- 
noticed. From  the  sprightliest  of  girls  she  had,  in  a 
few  years,  been  transformed  into  the  soberest  of 
women.  Life  offered  her  but  one  inducement,  —  her 


A    QUARREL  AND  A   REPENTANCE  345 

religion,  which  was  as  steadfast  as  her  love  and  which 
alone  guided  her  weary  footsteps  along  a  lonely, 
barren  way. 

In  July  the  Prince  de  Montpensier  returned  to 
Champigny,  and  Chabanes  was  forced  to  own  to  him- 
self that,  notwithstanding  his  love  for  the  prince,  he 
witnessed  his  coming  only  with  a  sense  of  deepest 
alarm.  Victoire  welcomed  her  husband  with  many 
misgivings  and  the  greatest  reserve.  The  prince  was 
immeasurably  pained  to  find  his  household  beneath 
some  vague,  gloomy  spell,  the  cause  of  which  he 
could  not  ascertain,  and  which,  in  consequence,  he 
knew  not  how  to  combat.  He  frankly  confessed  his 
alarm  to  the  count,  who,  partly  because  his  deadened 
faculties  no  longer  seemed  to  realize  completely  the 
true  condition  of  affairs,  and  partly  because  he  dared 
not  express  to  the  prince  his  convictions,  replied  with  a 
semi-indifference  that  deeply  grieved  Montpensier. 

The  spell  was  not  long  in  taking  hold  of  the  latter 
also,  and  he  soon  found  the  cheerlessness  and  silence 
of  Champigny  perfectly  natural.  Indeed,  at  this  hour 
gloom  had  settled  over  all  France.  A  superficial 
gilding  of  hysterical  gaiety  pervaded  the  life  of  the 
court,  the  falseness  of  which  was  about  to  reach 
its  zenith.  The  people,  fanatical  in  their  devotion 
to  their  priests,  murmured  ominously  against  the 
favor  that  was  being  shown  the  Protestants.  Jeanne 
d'Albret,  Queen  of  Navarre,  the  most  strikingly 
worthy  feminine  figure  in  all  Europe,  had  perished  at 
the  court  of  her  that  had  greeted  her  with  hypo- 
critical effusiveness.  Catherine  de  M^dicis  was 
believed  by  all  the  Huguenots  to  be  the  assassin  of 


346  A   PARFIT  GENTIL   KNIGHT 

their  queen,  and,  although  the  Amiral  de  Coligny  was 
the  ostensible  favorite  of  the  fickle  king,  misgivings 
filled  the  minds  of  the  Protestants  as  they  reluctantly 
agreed  to  the  marriage  of  their  new  leader,  Henri  de 
Navarre,  with  Marguerite  de  Valois,  the  sister  of 
Charles  IX. 

The  Due  de  Guise,  filled  with  hatred  of  the  good 
old  admiral,  whom  he  ever  believed  to  be  the  assassin 
of  his  father,  was  working  night  and  day  to  the 
attainment  of  his  revenge.  It  was  not  surprising, 
therefore,  that  he  forgot  even  Victoire  in  the  excite- 
ment of  the  tempestuous  life  about  him,  and  in  which 
he  was  the  central  figure.  Victoire's  disappointment 
grew  daily  deeper,  and  she  began  again  to  forget  all 
interests  save  her  own.  Chabanes  was  filled  with  a 
vague  sense  of  impending  and  overwhelming  disaster, 
but  as  yet  this  intuition  had  not  served  to  arouse 
entirely  his  lethargic  faculties  for  the  final  struggle. 
Montpensier,  beneath  the  general  influence,  gradually 
relapsed  into  melancholy  taciturnity. 


XXX 

A  FATALITY  AND  A  TEMPTATION 

ONE  day  Father  Goriot,  a  peasant  that  lived  on 
the  estate,  came  to  Champigny  to  inform  the 
Comte  de  Chabanes  that  a  gentleman  awaited  him  at 
the  old  man's  hovel  on  the  bank  of  the  Vienne. 
Chabanes  had  been  in  the  habit  of  using  this  place 
as  a  rendezvous  for  several  gentlemen  with  whom  he 
occasionally  went  hawking  in  the  preserves.  Don- 
ning a  simple  disguise  that  he  generally  assumed  on 
leaving  the  chateau,  the  count  mounted  his  horse  and 
rode  to  the  hovel.  He  found  awaiting  him  there  the 
Due  de  Guise.  The  duke  greeted  Chabanes  effus- 
ively, not  noticing  the  despair  the  latter  evinced  on 
seeing  him. 

"  My  dear  M.  de  Chabanes,"  said  Guise,  when 
they  had  exchanged  greetings,  "  you  see  I  have  found 
your  hiding-place.  But  do  not  fear  for  a  single 
instant  that  my  rejoicing  at  seeing  you  free  and  in 
safety  is  so  slight  that  it  will  permit  me  to  dream  of 
discovering  your  retreat  to  your  enemies.  One  of  my 
gentlemen,  acting  as  my  messenger,  recently  saw  you 
as  he  passed  this  way.  He  penetrated  your  admi- 
rable disguise  and,  knowing  the  favor  in  which  I  have 
always  held  you,  discreetly  told  no  one  except  myself 
of  his  discovery.  It  is  he  alone  that  has  accompanied 
me  here." 


348  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Chabanes  listened  coldly;  he  foresaw  evil  in  this 
unusual  prelude.  "  And  to  what  am  I  indebted  for 
this  visit,  Monsieur?  " 

"  Partly  to  my  desire  to  congratulate  you  on  your 
freedom,  and  partly  to  the  fact  that  I  wish  to  ask  of 
you  a  slight  service." 

"And  this  service  is — ?"  asked  Chabanes,  with  an 
incredulous  shrug. 

"  I  desire  you  to  arrange  for  me  a  means  of  secur- 
ing a  brief  interview  with  Mme.  la  Princesse  de 
Montpensier." 

For  an  instant  Guise,  reckless  bravo  that  he  was, 
quailed  before  the  wrath  and  indignation  that  flashed 
from  the  count's  eyes.  Instinctively  the  duke's  hand 
sought  his  sword,  but  the  hand  dropped  gracefully  to 
his  side :  he  saw  that  Chabanes'  coolness  had  con- 
quered his  anger. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  the  latter,  coldly,  almost  haughtily, 
"you  have  already  done  me  the  honor  to  listen  to 
my  opinions  on  the  subject  of  a  gentleman's  duty, 
especially  to  the  woman  for  whom  he  professes  a  sin- 
cere inclination.  I  can  only  hope  that  you  will  again 
do  so.  There  is  but  one  way  for  you  to  see  Mme.  de 
Montpensier  without  involving  the  anger  of  her  hus- 
band and  her  own  ruin.  You  must  be  received  by 
her  in  her  apartments,  alone  and  at  night.  You 
understand  what  that  means.  Knowing  this,  is  it 
possible  that  you  still  desire  an  interview  with  her?  " 

"  Ah,  M.  de  Chabanes,  you  are  a  man  of  feeling 
and  spirit,"  cried  Guise ;  "  when  I  tell  you  that  I  am 
on  the  verge  of  desperation,  that  I  have  ruthlessly 
deserted  affairs  of  immeasurable  importance  to  come 


A   FATALITY  AND  A    TEMPTATION  349 

here,  when  I  tell  you  that  my  life  actually  depends 
on  my  seeing  Mme.  de  Montpensier,  if  but  for 
a  single  moment,  surely  you  will  not  be  hard  on 
a  heart  that  surfers  beyond  expression.  A  man  of 
your  wit  can  easily  devise  a  means  of  my  seeing  the 
princess  without  another  soul  being  a  whit  the  wiser. 
I  assure  you  that  I  merely  desire  to  look  on  her,  to 
speak  to  her  a  single  word,  to  hear  once  more  the 
music  of  her  voice.  Then  I  will  go,  satisfied  and 
strong,  if  need  be,  never  to  see  her  again.  Is  there 
anything  dishonorable  about  such  a  desire,  spring- 
ing from  so  sincere  a  passion?" 

"The  question  is  unnecessary,  Monsieur.  You 
know  my  views."  The  count  realized  that,  having 
determined  to  accomplish  his  purpose,  no  amount  of 
reasoning  could  influence  Henri  de  Guise. 

The  latter  repressed  his  pride,  knowing  that  if  he 
aroused  the  anger  of  the  count  he  would  be  helpless. 
"  But,  M.  de  Chabanes,"  he  implored,  "  surely  you 
would  be  willing  to  leave  the  decision  of  the  point  to 
Madame  herself!  " 

"I  will  repeat  to  her  what  you  may  desire  me 
to  say,"  replied  the  count,  haughtily.  He  felt  his 
strength  slowly  ebbing  away. 

"  That  is  all  I  could  ask  of  you,  Monsieur,"  replied 
Guise,  confidently.  "  By  so  doing  you  will  obtain  my 
eternal  gratitude."  Chabanes  shrugged  his  shoulders 
expressively.  "  Tell  Madame  what  I  have  just  said 
to  you,  that  I  am  dying  to  see  her,  and  that,  if  she 
values  my  life,  she  will  grant  the  trifling  favor  I  crave." 

Chabanes  mounted  his  horse,  without  uttering 
a  word,  and  slowly  rode  away  to  the  chateau.  Guise 


350  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

watched  him  impatiently.  "This  count  is  the  most 
stubborn  man  I  ever  knew !  "  he  exclaimed  to  the 
gentleman  that  accompanied  him. 

Chabanes  repaired  at  once  to  Victoire's  apartments, 
where  he  found  her  alone. 

"What  is  it,  Raoul?"  she  asked,  when  he  had 
entered.  She  did  not  detect  the  atmosphere  of  abso- 
lute despair  that  enveloped  him. 

"  Victoire,  I  have  just  seen  M.  de  Guise.  He  is  at 
Father  Godot's."  His  voice  sounded  strangely  harsh 
and  unnatural. 

"  M.  de  Guise  at  Father  Goriot's !  "  exclaimed  the 
princess,  incredulously.  "  And  what  message  did  he 
send?" 

"  He  desires  a  brief  interview  with  you.  He  pro- 
tests that  his  life  depends  on  his  seeing  you,"  replied 
the  count,  coldly. 

Victoire's  heart  bounded  with  joy,  and  a  flush  of 
pride  overspread  her  temples.  M.  de  Guise  had  not 
forgotten  her,  after  all !  He  had  even  come  in  person 
to  Champigny,  and  he  protested  that  his  life  depended 
on  his  seeing  her,  if  only  for  a  moment !  But  how 
was  he  to  see  her?  That  would  be  a  difficult  matter 
for  her  to  arrange  without  the  prince  knowing  of  it. 
Like  the  count,  she  saw  at  once  that  there  was  but 
one  way:  Guise  must  come  to  her  apartments  that 
night.  But  that  would  be  very  wrong !  How  could 
she  ever  forgive  herself  if  she  allowed  him  such  a 
privilege,  when  her  husband  was  under  the  same  roof 
and  furiously  jealous  of  the  duke?  Ah,  but  M.  de 
Guise,  who  was  the  soul  of  honor,  desired  to  speak  to 
her  only  for  a  moment.  It  was  far  beyond  him  to  be  so 


A   FATALITY  AND  A    TEMPTATION  351 

base  as  to  intend  her  the  slightest  disrespect.  It  was 
only  his  great  admiration  and  friendship  for  her  that 
required  the  momentary  assurance  of  her  own  true 
feelings,  in  the  instant  of  that  accustomed  communion 
with  which  their  souls  found  it  intolerable  to  dispense. 
Besides,  the  interview,  though  secret  would  be  strictly 
formal.  She  would  insist  on  M.  de  Chabanes  being 
with  them  from  the  moment  of  the  duke's  arrival  to 
that  of  his  departure. 

Chabanes  had  noticed  her  hesitancy  in  the  greatest 
suspense.  A  faint  hope  gradually  arose  within  him 
that  her  reason  would  triumph,  or  her  sense  of  pro- 
priety be  sorely  wounded,  and  that  he  would  be 
instructed  to  return  to  the  duke  with  her  refusal. 

"  You  know,  Victoire,"  he  said,  slowly,  "  the  risks  you 
would  run  if  you  granted  M.  de  Guise  this  interview ;  I 
need  not  dwell  on  them.  Should  your  husband  learn 
of  Guise's  presence  here  we  should  all  be  involved  in 
utter  ruin.  More  than  that,  your  reputation  would  be 
lost  if  the  facts  of  the  duke's  visit  ever  became  other- 
wise known.  I  trust  that  I  need  not  wait  longer  for 
the  answer  you  will  instruct  me  to  give  M.  de  Guise." 

"  Raoul,"  replied  the  princess,  determinedly, "  there 
is  no  true  reason  why  I  should  not  grant  this  slight 
favor  to  M.  de  Guise.  Were  it  not  for  the  insane 
jealousy  of  Charles,  I  might  openly  and  cordially  in- 
vite the  duke  to  Champigny,  and  it  is  only  because 
of  my  husband's  ungovernable  temper  and  selfishness 
that  I  am  compelled  to  resort  to  secrecy  in  a  thing 
that  I  should  be  proud  to  do  openly,  and  to  which 
Charles  has  no  right  to  object.  I  have  made  up  my 
mind.  Let  those  that  see  evil  in  my  resolution  abide 


352  A   PARFIT  GENTIL   KNIGHT 

by  it  as  best  they  may.  I  will  grant  M.  de  Guise 
this  interview,  at  no  matter  what  cost.  I  will  not 
longer  be  a  slave  to  the  selfishness  of  the  prince." 

Her  voice  rang  out  with  a  clearness  that  crushed 
every  atom  of  the  hope  the  count  had  entertained. 

"  But,  Victoire,  I  beg  you  to  listen  to  reason.  We 
cannot  avoid  the  circumstances  in  which  we  are 
placed.  You  must  not  forget  the  danger  that  your 
decision  incurs.  I  would  gladly  give  up  my  life 
rather  than  see  you  involved  in  the  tempest  that 
Charles'  fury  would  bring  down  on  you.  Granting 
that  he  is  wrong  to  deprive  you  of  a  single  liberty, 
yet  you  cannot  afford  to  risk  so  much  for  the  mere 
sake  of  asserting  your  rightful  independence. " 

"  It  is  no  use,  Raoul,"  replied  Victoire,  heatedly ;  "  I 
am  determined.  I  have  lived  this  life  of  a  slave  long 
enough.  I  am  old  enough  and  experienced  enough 
to  choose  my  friends  and  to  be  trusted  with  them.  I 
shall  see  M.  de  Guise  to-night  in  this  room.  If  M.  de 
Montpensier  discovers  the  duke's  presence,  let  him 
act  as  he  may  choose.  For  my  part,  I  believe  I  am 
in  the  right,  and  I  intend  to  be  fearless." 

Her  anger  was  contagious.  Chabanes  felt  that  the 
control  of  his  own  temper  was  slipping  from  him.  It 
was  preposterous  that  this  woman  should  be  so  un- 
reasonable. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said,  coldly,  "  how  are  you  going 
to  arrange  this  affair?  " 

"  Oh,  it  will  be  simple.  To-night  at,  say,  ten  I  will 
come  here  and  await  the  duke,  sending  away  my 
women.  He  will  enter  boldly,  we  will  converse  a  few 
moments,  and  he  will  depart." 


A   FATALITY  AND  A    TEMPTATION  353 

"  And  how  is  he  to  know  that  you  are  awaiting 
him  at  that  hour?"  asked  Chabanes,  white  with 
anger. 

"  Why,  you  will  tell  him,  of  course !  "  exclaimed 
Victoire,  surprised  at  the  question. 

"Victoire,  there  is  some  evil  influence  at  work 
within  you.  You  have  neither  respect  for  your 
husband's  desires  nor  consideration  for  his  honor. 
On  the  strength  of  a  childish  conviction  that  you  are 
unjustly  restricted  by  him  who  of  all  persons  has  a 
perfect  right  to  restrict  you,  and  to  whom  you  owe 
the  utmost  regard,  you  readily  devise  a  plan  the  ful- 
filment of  which  will  more  than  likely  result  in  the 
ruin  of  your  husband  and  yourself,  the  loss  of -your 
reputation  and  his  honor.  For  God's  sake,  let  your- 
self be  guided  by  reason  ;  if  not  for  his  sake  to  whom 
you  owe  a  sacred  duty,  at  least  for  the  sake  of  your 
own  fair  name,  your  own  priceless  honor !  By  the 
memory  of  your  mother,  by  your  religion,  by  all 
that  is  sacred  to  you,  I  implore  you  not  to  do  this 
rash,  this  terrible  deed !  Before  God,  I  would  rather 
lay  down  my  life  than  see  you  in  such  peril  as  that  in 
which  you  propose  placing  yourself." 

In  reply  Victoire  petulantly  shrugged  her  shoulders. 
"  I  cannot  doubt  your  sincerity,  Raoul ;  I  cannot  even 
justify  myself  in  accusing  a  natural  jealousy  of  your 
own  of  prompting  your  words.  But  I  am  resolved. 
You  do  not  look  at  the  matter  from  any  standpoint 
other  than  that  of  the  tyrannical  husband,  whose 
selfishness  prompts  him  only  to  humiliate  and  enslave 
the  wife  that  he  professes  to  love.  Love !  What  a 
base  passion  is  love,  if  it  result  only  in  selfishness, 

23 


354  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

jealousy,  and  imhappiness !  I  repeat  that  I  am 
satisfied  as  to  the  course  I  shall  pursue." 

"  No,  Victoire,  the  base  passion  is  the  one  that  can 
suggest  the  despoiling  of  a  woman's  honor  and  the 
jeopardizing  of  her  fair  name.  Cling  to  your  hus- 
band's love  with  all  your  strength,  before  you  discard 
it  for  a  meaner  passion." 

"  Raoul,  do  you  think  I  have  given  this  matter  no 
thought?  I  am  no  longer  a  child,  as  I  shall  prove  to 
you.  I  will  no  longer  be  the  will-less  chattel  of  a  self- 
centred  master.  Heaven  knows  that  you  are  dear 
to  me  and  that  it  pains  me  to  cause  you  so  much 
unhappiness,  but  my  oppression  is  no  longer  to  be 
borne.  Tell  M.  de  Guise  that  he  may  come  to- 
night." 

"  Madame,  you  are  a  foolish  child  !  "  exclaimed  the 
count,  angrily.  "  Let  me  assure  you  that  I  will  not 
be  a  party  to  any  such  insanity  as  you  propose." 

"  In  that  case,"  replied  Victoire,  controlling  herself 
with  a  violent  effort,  "  I  shall  send  some  one  else." 

"  But  there  is  no  one  else  that  you  can  send  with- 
out Charles  at  once  learning  what  you  have  done." 

"That  is  not  my  fault.  M.  de  Montpensier  may 
learn  as  much  as  he  likes.  I  shall  send  the  first 
servant  I  find  to  M.  de  Guise." 

With  a  resolute  air  she  crossed  the  room  to  a  table, 
raised  a  tiny  whistle  to  her  lips,  and  was  about  to 
blow  on  it. 

Chabanes  prevented  her  with  a  hasty  gesture. 
"  You  shall  not  do  that,  Victoire,"  he  said,  excitedly. 
"  If  you  have  determined  beyond  the  power  of  reason 
to  influence  you,  I  will  go  for  you  myself.  I  can- 


A   FATALITY  AND  A    TEMPTATION  355 

not  stand  idly  by  and  see  you  voluntarily  throw  your- 
self into  the  fire." 

Victoire's  anger. left  her.  "  There 's  a  dear  friend  !  " 
she  cried,  caressingly.  "  Now,  do  not  be  angry  with 
me,  for  I  am  sure  that,  after  M.  de  Guise  has  come 
safely  and  gone  without  a  soul  knowing  of  it,  you  will 
admit  that  I  was  right.  Go  to  him  at  once,  Raoul, 
that  he  may  not  become  impatient.  Tell  him  you 
will  conduct  him  here  at  ten  o'clock." 

She  laughed  delightedly,  no  longer  giving  her 
danger  the  least  thought;  she  had  conquered. 

"  This  is  not  the  first  time  that  I  have  sent  you 
with  a  message  to  M.  de  Guise,"  she  added.  "  Do 
you  remember,  once  at  Mezieres,  when  you  were  one 
of  the  marquis'  guards,  and  I  sent  you  all  the  way  to 
Paris  with  a  note  for  the  duke?" 

Chabanes  started  and  changed  color;  his  right 
hand  involuntarily  went  to  his  breast,  as  though  for 
the  assurance  that  something  hidden  there  was  safe. 
He  smiled  perfunctorily,  excused  himself,  and  left 
the  room. 

It  was  past  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  and  the 
moon  had  risen.  The  count  paced  slowly  up  and 
down  the  park  before  the  chateau,  endeavoring  to  hit 
on  some  plan  whereby  he  could  bring  M.  de  Guise  to 
Victoire's  chamber  without  arousing  the  suspicions 
of  the  prince.  At  length  he  returned  to  the  princess. 

"  We  had  best  postpone  the  time  of  M.  de  Guise's 
coming  until  midnight,"  he  said,  slowly.  "  Doubtless, 
Charles  will  then  have  retired,  and  the  duke  can  enter 
this  room  by  means  of  the  small  drawbridge  there, 
that  leads  to  the  court." 


356  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  So  be  it,  then,"  exclaimed  Victoire.  "  I  will  help 
Antoinette  to  lower  the  bridge  promptly  at  twelve, 
and  I  will  be  expecting  you." 

Chabanes  returned  sadly  to  the  outer  court  and, 
mounting  his  horse,  rode  slowly  toward  Father 
Goriot's.  The  conflict  of  emotions  that  raged  within 
him  was  even  fiercer  than  any  he  had  hitherto  experi- 
enced. He  was  seized  with  innumerable  impulses: 
to  return  to  the  chateau  and  tell  Victoire  that  Guise  had 
not  waited ;  to  refuse  to  execute  her  design  to  permit 
the  interview ;  to  leave  Champigny  and  never  return ; 
to  seek  a  quarrel  with  the  Due  de  Guise  and  kill  him ; 
to  tell  the  latter  that  Victoire  had  refused  to  see  him. 
This  last  impulse  took  fierce  hold  on  him.  It  recalled 
Victoire's  words,  "  This  is  not  the  first  time  I  have 
sent  you  with  a  message  to  M.  de  Guise."  He  hesita- 
tingly reined  in  his  horse  and  took  from  his  doublet 
a  locket,  from  which  he  drew  a  small  slip  of  paper. 
It  was  the  message  with  which  he  had  been  sent  to  the 
Due  de  Guise  from  Mezieres,  more  than  five  years  be- 
fore, and  which  the  latter,  after  reading  it,  had  dropped 
in  the  Rue  du  Chaume  before  the  H6tel  de  Guise. 

The  count  read  the  note  by  the  moonlight.  "  M. 
de  Guise,  if  he  values  them,  will  not  endanger  his  own 
life  and  the  honor  of  one  he  professes  to  love,"  it  said. 
It  was  in  Victoire's  characteristic  and  childish  hand- 
writing and  without  date. 

"  It  is  Destiny !  "  cried  Chabanes.  "  What  other 
power  could  have  moved  me  to  preserve  this  message 
so  carefully  during  all  these  years?  Surely,  Provi- 
dence takes  this  means  of  relieving  my  difficulty.  I 
have  only  to  give  this  note  to  Guise  and  he  will  ride 


A   FATALITY  AND  A    TEMPTATION  357 

away.  He  would  not  recognize  the  message  he  had 
received  five  years  ago,  and  it  would  accomplish  the 
desired  purpose.  My  friend  and  my  mistress  would 
be  saved  from  a  step  that  involves  possible  ruin  and 
destruction  for  us  all !  " 

He  spurred  his  horse  forward,  resolved  to  pursue 
the  course  that  Fate  so  manifestly  pointed  out  to  him. 

However,  after  a  few  moments,  he  again  drew  rein. 
"  No,"  he  said,  with  conviction ;  "  it  would  be  a 
cowardly  lie !  I  have  given  my  word  to  Victoire, 
and  it  is  a  word  that  has  never  been  broken.  God 
forbid  that  I  fail  now !  The  evil  is  already  done ;  this 
added  lie  cannot  help  me.  I  cannot  but  feel  that  it  is 
my  death  that  I  am  going  to  meet,  and,  by  the  shield 
of  my  fathers,  I  will  meet  it  without  subterfuge  !  " 

He  took  the  locket  from  his  breast  again  and  drewout 
the  paper ;  he  read  it  over  several  times  and  imprinted 
on  it  a  fervent  kiss.  Then,  with  a  sigh,  he  deliberately 
tore  it  into  bits  and  scattered  it  to  the  wind. 

Guise  rode  merrily  back  to  the  chateau  with  Cha- 
banes.  Neither  of  the  men  spoke ;  the  one  was  too 
full  of  the  joy  he  anticipated,  the  other  of  the  conflict 
that  raged  within  his  soul.  Once  Chabanes,  in  his 
despair,  was  on  the  point  of  drawing  his  sword  and 
killing  the  duke  before  he  could  go  farther.  At  the 

O 

very  moment  his  hand  was  on  his  sword-hilt  his  horse 
stumbled  and  he  was  compelled  to  withdraw  it  in 
order  to  save  himself  a  fall.  Guise's  gentleman  rode 
behind  them,  and,  when  they  reached  the  wall  of  the 
chSteau,  took  charge  of  their  horses.  The  count  led 
Guise  through  an  unused  gate  and  by  a  circuitous  path 
to  the  court  on  which  opened  the  chamber  of  Victoire. 


358  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Victoire,  after  the  count  had  left  her,  found  her- 
self unable  to  control  the  feelings  that  possessed 
her.  She  ardently  desired  to  see  Guise  again,  and  her 
conscience  compelled  her  to  admit  that  this  desire 
had  greatly  influenced  what  she  had  explained  to 
Chabanes  as  a  desire  to  assert  her  will  in  the  face  of 
her  husband's  importunity.  She  was  about  to  send  a 
servant  after  the  count  and  beg  him  to  return,  but  she 
hesitated  until  that  course  was  too  long  deferred. 
For  a  time  she  felt  that,  after  all,  as  the  count  had 
protested,  she  was  doing  a  great  wrong  in  granting 
this  midnight  rendezvous,  and  she  concluded  to  re- 
scind her  decision ;  by  not  having  the  drawbridge 
lowered  she  could  inform  the  count  of  her  change  of 
mind.  Not  until  a  very  few  minutes  before  midnight 
did  she  falter  in  this  resolution,  but  at  the  last  mo- 
ment, her  pride  rebelling  at  the  thought  of  her  re- 
straint, her  memory  torturing  her  with  the  many 
pleasant  days  that  had  been  spent  in  the  company  of 
the  duke,  and  anticipation  tempting  her  with  the  joy 
she  was  about  to  cause  her  admirer,  she  called  An- 
toinette, who,  in  amazement,  helped  her  to  lower  the 
tiny  bridge  that  led  to  the  court. 

When  Chabanes  found  this  drawbridge  lowered, 
his  heart  sank  deeper  in  despair.  Half-unconsciously 
he  had  hoped  that  reason  would  return  to  Victoire, 
and  that  he  would  find  the  bridge  still  drawn.  Now 
his  rage  returned  with  redoubled  fury,  and  he  longed 
to  pass  his  sword  through  the  body  of  the  man  who  was 
the  cause  of  all  his  suffering.  However,  the  knowl- 
edge that  the  slightest  noise  would  bring  destruction 
on  those  he  loved  was  sufficient  to  restrain  him. 


A   FATALITY  AND  A    TEMPTATION  359 

Guise  followed  him  eagerly  over  the  bridge  and 
into  the  apartment  of  the  princess.  As  the  duke  was 
leaving  the  bridge  his  foot  caught  in  one  of  the 
chains,  the  other  end  of  the  bridge  was  slightly 
raised,  and,  on  being  released,  fell  with  a  trifling 
noise.  The  heart  of  Chabanes  momentarily  stood 
still  and  he  trembled  violently.  Neither  of  the  men 
moved  for  several  seconds,  as  they  listened  to  ascer- 
tain what  effect  the  noise  might  have  produced.  As 
they  heard  no  sound  they  were  reassured,  and  they 
entered  the  chamber  in  the  belief  that  nothing  was 
as  yet  suspected. 

Victoire  had  arrayed  herself  for  the  occasion  as 
charmingly  as  she  knew  how,  and  Chabanes  thought 
that  he  had  never  before  seen  her  so  beautiful,  while 
Guise  was  ravished.  The  latter  approached  her  with 
all  seeming  deference  and,  kneeling,  kissed  the  hand 
she  radiantly  extended  to  him. 

"  Madame,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  earnest  tone,  "  this  is 
the  happiest  moment  of  my  life.  Were  I  to  die  this 
instant  I  should  do  so  joyfully !  " 

The  count  ground  his  teeth  in  impotent  rage  and 
jealousy,  and,  hastily  crossing  the  room,  withdrew  into 
the  corridor.  Victoire,  seeing  him  leave,  became 
greatly  alarmed,  and,  withdrawing  the  hand  that 
Guise  held  tightly,  followed  Chabanes. 

"  Please  return,  Raoul,"  she  implored ;  "  I  beg  of 
you  to  remain  in  the  room." 

Chabanes  did  not  reply;  he  dared  not  speak,  so 
filled  with  rage  was  he.  Victoire  returned  help- 
lessly to  Guise,  whom  she  welcomed  in  a  tone  that 
clearly  betrayed  her  distress  at  being  left  thus  un- 
expectedly alone  with  him. 


360  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  Monsieur,"  she  said,  "  I  fear  I  have  done  a  great 
wrong  in  thus  allowing  you  to  visit  me.  I  will  trust 
that  you  will  realize  my  position  and,  now  that  I  have 
spoken  to  you,  that  you  will  go  at  once  and  spare 
me  further  fears."  Then,  turning  toward  the  door, 
"  Please  return,  M.  de  Chabanes,"  she  said,  pleadingly. 

"  I  beg  of  you  to  excuse  me,  Madame,"  replied  the 
count,  controlling  his  feelings  as  best  he  could.  "  I 
will  remain  close  at  hand." 

Guise  bit  his  lip  with  vexation ;  he  had  pictured  to 
himself  a  reception  of  a  different  sort.  However,  he 
bowed  gracefully  and  replied,  "  The  pleasure  of  but 
a  single  glance  is  more  than  I  deserve  from  you, 
Madame  —  " 

The  princess  interrupted  him.  Indeed,  she  scarcely 
heard  him,  so  great  was  her  increasing  terror. 
"Raoul,"  she  said,  her  voice  betraying  her  alarm,  "I 
beg  of  you  to  come  back !  " 

Chabanes  could  no  longer  restrain  himself.  "  This 
is  too  much  to  ask  of  me !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  his 
passion  allowing  his  voice  to  rise  higher  than  he 
knew.  He  was  interrupted  by  the  sound  of  a  step 
approaching  down  the  corridor  from  the  apartments 
of  the  Prince  de  Montpensier;  a  second  later  he 
recognized  the  step  as  that  of  the  prince  himself. 

The  count  rushed  into  the  chamber  of  the  princess, 
and,  closing  the  door  behind  him,  bolted  it.  It  re- 
quired but  an  instant  for  him  to  realize  the  situation 
and  to  form  a  resolution. 

"  M.  de  Guise,"  he  said,  with  wonderful  quietness, 
"  the  Prince  de  Montpensier  is  approaching.  If  he 
finds  you  here,  neither  your  life  nor  that  of  Madame 


A   FATALITY  AND  A    TEMPTATION  361 

is  safe.  Go  at  once  and  leave  me  to  face  the  prince's 
anger." 

The  steps  without  came  nearer,  and  simultaneously 
courage  departed  from  the  breast  of  the  Due  de 
Guise.  For  once  in  his  evil  life  his  reckless  daring 
failed  him.  He  was  alone  in  this  chateau  with  an 
implacable  and  powerful  enemy.  Moreover,  matters 
of  the  greatest  importance  required  his  immediate 
return  to  Paris ;  nothing  must  detain  him. 

"  No,  no,  Raoul !  "  cried  the  princess,  "  you  shall 
not  be  involved  in  this  wretched  affair.  Leave  us 
while  there  is  yet  time.  M.  de  Guise  could  not  think 
of  allowing  you  to  accept  his  blame,"  she  added,  in 
wonder  that  the  duke  had  not  already  given  expres- 
sion to  such  a  conviction.  "  Speak,  M.  le  Due,"  she 
continued,  turning  to  where,  an  instant  before,  Guise 
had  stood.  He  was  gone. 

Victoire  read  the  contempt  written  on  the  count's 
features,  and  a  great  revulsion  of  feeling  took  place 
within  her.  She  ran  to  the  open  window  by  which 
Guise  had  departed,  and,  leaning  far  out  over  the 
drawbridge,  cried  into  the  night,  in  a  tone  of  infinite 
disdain,  "  Coward  !  " 

They  heard  without  the  voice  of  Montpensier  de- 
manding admittance.  Victoire,  exhausted,  fell  weakly 
into  a  chair.  The  count,  turning,  unbolted  the  door. 
Then  he  walked  calmly  to  the  centre  of  the  room 
and  seated  himself  beside  a  table,  on  which,  his  chin 
in  his  hand,  he  rested  his  elbow. 

"  Enter !  "  he  said. 


XXXI 

A  DISASTER  AND   A   LIGHT 

MONTPENSIER  had  heard  the  noise  made  by 
Guise,  as  the  latter  entered  the  chamber  of 
the  princess.  Contrary  to  his  custom  the  prince  had 
chosen  that  night  to  sit  up  and  read  in  his  bed- 
chamber until  an  unusually  late  hour.  His  recent 
gloomy  life  at  Champigny  had  rendered  him  unusu- 
ally nervous,  and,  at  the  noise  of  the  falling  draw- 
bridge, he  gave  a  violent  start. 

"  What  noise  was  that,  Antoine?"  he  demanded  of 
his  valet,  who  was  busying  himself  with  his  master's 
clothing. 

"  I  know  not,  Monseigneur,"  replied  the  valet. 
"  It  seemed  to  come  from  the  court.  I  will  look  out 
of  the  window." 

Antoine  went  into  the  next  room  and  opened  a 
window  overlooking  the  court.  Then  he  returned 
to  the  prince. 

"The  drawbridge  from  the  chamber  of  Madame  is 
down,  Monseigneur,"  he  said. 

"  My  wife's  drawbridge  lowered  !  "  exclaimed  Mont- 
pensier.  "  That  is  exceedingly  strange.  I  will  go  and 
inquire  the  cause.  Give  me  my  doublet,  Antoine." 

The  valet  brought  the  garment,  which  his  master 
at  once  donned,  at  the  same  time  buckling  on  his 
sword  in  an  absent  way.  The  prince  was  utterly  at  a 


A   DISASTER  AND  A   LIGHT  363 

loss  to  explain  to  himself  why  Victoire  should  have 
the  bridge  lowered  at  this  hour  of  the  night. 

He  opened  the  door  into  the  corridor  just  as  the 
count,  filled  with  anger,  exclaimed,  "  This  is  too  much 
to  ask  of  me !  "  Montpensier  could  not  distinguish 
the  voice,  knowing  only  that  it  was  a  man's.  All  his 
suspicions  were  at  once  aroused,  and  he  hurried  down 
the  corridor  consumed  with  jealous  rage. 

Finding  the  door  of  his  wife's  chamber  bolted,  he 
demanded  admittance,  and  in  reply  heard  the  bolt 
slide  back  and  the  voice  of  Chabanes  saying, 
"  Enter  !  "  He  reached  for  the  clasp,  gave  it  a  turn, 
and  burst  into  the  room. 

His  anger  momentarily  gave  way  to  surprise  as 
he  saw  only  Victoire  and  the  count  in  the  room,  and 
each  in  an  attitude  of  the  greatest  dejection.  He 
stopped  abruptly  and  threw  up  his  hands  in  a  gesture 
of  astonishment.  For  some  moments  he  remained 
speechless.  The  thought  that  the  Comte  de  Cha- 
banes, the  man  he  loved  as  a  brother,  should  be 
alone  with  his  wife  in  her  chamber  at  this  hour, 
completely  paralyzed  all  his  faculties.  He  could 
not  bring  himself  to  believe  his  senses. 

"  My  God,  Raoul !  "  he  cried,  at  length.  "  Am  I 
dreaming,  or  do  my  own  eyes  tell  me  the  truth  ?  Can 
it  be  that  a  man  I  have  loved  so  dearly  should  choose 
my  wife  out  of  all  the  women  in  the  world  for  his 
mistress?  " 

The  count  did  not  answer.  He  seemed  to  have 
fallen  into  a  sort  of  stupor. 

"And  you,  Madame,"  cried  Montpensier,  turning 
to  his  half-senseless  wife ;  "  was  it  not  enough  that 


364  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

you  should  take  from  me  my  honor  without  also 
depriving  me  of  the  only  man  in  all  the  world  that 
could  console  me  for  that  misfortune?" 

Victoire  was  incapable  of  replying.  The  objects  in 
the  room  began  to  swim  before  her  aching  eyes. 
Chabanes  endeavored  vainly  to  speak.  "  I  am  worse 
than  criminal  in  your  eyes,"  he  said,  at  last,  when 
speech  returned  to  him ;  "  I  am  an  ingrate  and  dis- 
honored. My  death  will  avenge  you,  and  as  I  am 
more  unhappy  and  desperate  than  you,  if  you  will  do 
me  the  immediate  honor  of  passing  your  sword 
through  my  body,  you  will  thus  obtain  for  me  the 
sole  thing  in  the  world  that  I  can  now  desire." 

The  mortal  sorrow  of  the  count's  tone  and  the 
indubitable  air  of  innocence  that  surrounded  him 
made  it  apparent  to  Montpensier  that  there  was  a 
deep  mystery  behind  the  words.  His  anguish  was 
only  augmented  by  this  certainty. 

"  Take  my  own  life,  Raoul,"  he  cried,  in  despair, 
"  or  explain  at  once  the  full  import  of  your  words. 
You  owe  me  this  explanation,  not  only  because  of 
our  friendship,  but  because  of  my  moderation.  Any 
other  than  I  would  have  at  once  avenged  so  terrible 
an  affront." 

Chabanes  started  from  his  chair  in  astonishment. 
He  had  confidently  expected  and  desired  that  the 
prince  would  at  once  run  him  through.  The  nobility 
of  his  friend's  refusal  to  believe  him  guilty,  even  in 
the  face  of  the  overpowering  circumstantial  evidence, 
touched  him  to  the  heart  and  inspired  him  to  be  not 
less  true  than  the  prince  had  proven  himself. 

"  Charles,"  he  said,  with  passionate  determination, 


A  DISASTER  AND  A   LIGHT  365 

"  I  repeat  that  I  gladly  offer  you  your  revenge.  I 
love  your  wife  to  madness,  and  have  loved  her  since 
the  first  moment  that  I  saw  her,  even  before  you  had 
married  her.  During  the  five  years  that  you  have 
intrusted  me  with  your  honor  I  have  secretly  betrayed 
you.  Twice  I  have  said  to  your  wife  what  you  alone 
in  all  the  world  had  the  right  to  say :  4 1  love  you.' 
Though,  as  God  is  my  witness,  she  is  as  innocent  as 
an  angel,  though  she  has  never.offered  me  the  slightest 
grounds  for  belief  that  she  could  ever  look  on  me  as 
anything  but  a  friend,  I  have  loved  her  with  all  my 
soul,  and  I  still  love  her  far  better  than  life  itself. 
Kill  me;  it  is  your  right.  But  you  cannot  accuse 
her  of  evil.  Strike !  as  I  have  ever  seen  you  strike 
in  honor's  cause  —  without  reluctance." 

The  prince's  half-drawn  sword  clanged  back  in  its 
scabbard.  Intense  despair  impressed  Chabanes'  pale 
features.  "  You  hesitate  !  "  he  cried,  in  wildest  grief; 
"  and  I  dare  not  ask  you  why.  The  reason  is  an  old 
and  honest  one ;  —  ha !  ha !  the  Comte  de  Chabanes 
can  only  be  the  first  to  recognize  it.  A  man  —  a  man 
may  not  —  dishonor  his  sword  !  " 

His  hands,  which  had  been  extended  back  at  his 
sides  in  an  eloquent  gesture  of  fearless  resignation, 
flew  to  his  forehead,  he  wavered,  and  the  impassioned 
outburst  dwindled  to  a  sigh. 

Montpensier,  who,  at  the  count's  first  words,  had 
started  in  anger  and  in  the  end  had  sunk  back  on  a 
divan,  sat  with  his  head  buried  in  his  hands.  His 
friend's  confession  filled  him  with  grief  that  ended  in 
incredulity.  In  his  agony  he  recalled  all  that  Cha- 
banes had  been  to  him  and  to  his  domestic  affairs,  the 


366  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

innumerable  storms  the  count  had  averted,  the  conso- 
lation he  had  always  offered  both  husband  and  wife, 
the  unswerving  fidelity  with  which  he  had  shielded 
her  .and  thought  for  him,  and  he  was  on  the  point 
of  accusing  the  count  of  falsehood  in  saying  that  he 
loved  Victoire.  This,  too,  however,  he  knew  to  be 
impossible;  such  a  lie  was  totally  foreign  to  Cha- 
banes'  nature.  Then,  "  How  he  has  suffered  all  these 
years  !  "  thought  Montpensier,  "  while  he  has  been  ex- 
erting every  effort  to  maintain  the  equanimity  of  my 
household,  while  he  has  forgotten  himself  and  his 
love  in  an  endeavor  to  create  my  happiness,  while  he 
has  risked  his  life  that  I  might  live  to  enjoy  the 
woman  he  loved  !  " 

The  prince  was  overwhelmed  with  grief;  he  did 
not  move.  Chabanes  had  fallen  back  on  his  chair, 
where  he  sat,  his  head  on  his  breast,  scarcely  con- 
scious of  his  surroundings.  As  for  the  princess, 
she  sat  bolt  upright  in  her  chair,  endeavoring  to 
realize  the  full  import  of  all  Chabanes  had  said. 
Presently  Chabanes,  who  had  fallen  into  a  stupor, 
arose,  stared  vacantly  about  him,  and  left  the  room. 
He  no  longer  realized  where  he  was  or  what  he  was 
doing.  Exhausted  in  every  faculty  by  the  strain  of 
emotion  under  which  he  had  for  long  been  laboring, 
mind  and  memory  had  given  way  and  he  wandered 
aimlessly  through  the  prince's  apartments  and  out  of 
the  chateau.  Finding  his  horse  tied  where  he  had 
left  it  with  the  follower  of  the  Due  de  Guise,  he 
mechanically  mounted  it  and  rode  away  without  heed 
of  direction  or  destination. 

For  a  time  Victoire  was  scarcely  more  alive  to  the 


A   DISASTER  AND  A   LIGHT  367 

circumstances  than  was  Chabanes.  When  the  latter 
had  left  the  room,  however,  she  put  forth  a  mighty 
effort  and  collected  her  scattered  wits.  The  self- 
sacrifice  of  Chabanes  was  so  great  that  she  could 
scarcely  believe  it  possible.  On  the  other  hand  the 
cowardice  of  Guise  in  thus  permitting  the  innocent 
count  to  bear  his  blame  was  a  terrific  blow,  revolution- 
izing as  it  did  her  long-formed  opinion  of  the  duke. 
..Chabanes'  words,  "  The  base  passion  is  the  one  that 
can  suggest  the  despoiling  of  a  woman's  honor  and 
the  jeopardizing  of  her  fair  name,"  rang  constantly  in 
her  mind.  Mentally  she  went  over  all  the  events  of  her 
relations  with  Guise,  viewing  them  in  the  light  of  her 
recent  revelations.  Roughly  enough  the  idol  had 
been  shattered,  and  now  she  wrathfully  trod  its  frag- 
ments into  the  mire  of  contempt,  while  on  its  pedestal 
she  placed  the  noble  Comte  de  Chabanes.  Guise  had 
been  base  in  all  things,  and  she  had  been  blind  to  his 
baseness.  Why  had  not  Raoul  told  her?  But  had  he 
not  done  so  in  a  thousand  ways  ?  Guise's  passion  was 
base ;  at  heart  he  was  a  coward ;  he  had  the  soul  of  a 
scoundrel.  What  an  immense  gulf  lay  between  such 
a  nature  and  that  of  Raoul !  What  a  contrast ! 
Raoul  had  offered  her  a  love  that  was  all  self-sacrifice ; 
Guise  gave  only  selfishness.  Guise  was  the  vilest  of 
men ;  Chabanes  was  the  most  noble. 

She  arose  and  began  pacing  the  floor  as  if  to 
collect  strength  for  what  she  desired  to  say.  Mont- 
pensier  did  not  look  at  her. 

"  Charles, "  she  said,  presently,  in  a  low  voice, 
"  you  must  hear  my  confession  now.  I  love  your 
friend  better  than  all  the  world.  He  is  the  noblest 


368  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

man  God  ever  created.  Do  you  not  see  how  he  has 
sacrificed  himself  and  borne  the  guilt  that  should  rest 
doubly  on  my  shoulders?  Was  there  any  need  for  him 
to  tell  you  that  he  loved  me?  Can  you  doubt  now 
that  he  also  loved  you  better  than  he  loved  himself?" 

The  prince  had  risen  to  his  feet  at  his  wife's  first 
words,  all  his  old  natural  jealousy  and  suspicion 
impulsively  returning. 

"  So  you  love  him,  too,  do  you  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a( 
snarl  of  rage.  "  In  God's  name,  woman,  tell  me 
whom  you  have  not  loved,  aside  from  your  husband  !  " 
Then  remorse  seized  him  almost  immediately,  and  he 
fell  back  on  the  divan,  crying,  "  Raoul,  Raoul !  For- 
give me  the  suspicion !  You  know  her  better  than  I. 
How  can  I  blame  her  for  loving  you  ?  " 

"  He  did  not  tell  you  all,  Charles,"  continued  the 
princess,  noting  with  increasing  sadness  her  husband's 
misery,  which  after  all,  sprang  from  the  loss  of  his 
friend  rather  than  from  that  of  his  wife.  "  Like  the 
great,  true  nobleman  that  he  is,  he  refused  to  clear 
himself  at  the  expense  of  your  honor  and  mine  of  the 
stigma  appearances  cast  over  him.  You  cannot — • 
do  not — believe  him  guilty  of  dishonor  to  you.  Of 
other  men  you  could  scarcely  help  believing  it. 
Listen  to  me :  I  am  the  guilty  one ;  there  was  another 
man !  " 

Montpensier  sprang  to  his  feet  and  his  sword 
flashed  from  its  scabbard,  as  Victoire  shrank  back  in 
terror.  "  His  name  !  "  he  cried,  hoarsely,  "  before  I 
kill  you ! " 

The  princess  recovered  her  self-possession.  "  Kill 
me,  if  you  will,"  she  replied,  "  but  hear  me  first." 


A   DISASTER  AND  A   LIGHT  369 

Montpensier,  with  a  groan  of  despair,  bade  her 
hasten. 

"  1  have  long  been  possessed  of  an  insensate  admi- 
ration for  one  that  I  thought  the  equal  of  any  noble- 
man in  the  world,  even  of  Raoul.  Time  and  again  our 
dear  friend  has  in  his  chivalrous  way  warned  me  against 
the  man,  but  I  have  not  heeded.  By  your  apparent 
jealousy  and  distrust  I  have  been  impelled  to  listen  to 
the  words  of  attachment  with  which  that  man  showered 
me.  Now  I  know  him  to  be  despicable  beyond  all 
words.  M.  de  Guise  has  been  here  to-night." 

The  prince  was  half-crazed  by  his  wife's  confession. 
"  But  Raoul,"  he  cried ;  "  how  came  he  in  this  room 
at  such  a  time  ?  " 

"  He  came  to  bear  the  duke's  blame  and  your 
anger,  that  you  might  not  know  of  my  infamy."  And 
she  rapidly  related  the  events  of  that  day  and  night : 
how,  by  her  disregarding  all  things  save  her  own 
desires  and  wounded  pride,  she  had  driven  the  count 
to  conduct  Guise  to  her,  and  how  Chabanes  had  sought 
by  every  risk  and  every  sacrifice  to  preserve  the 
prince's  honor  and  comfort  and  her  reputation. 

Hardly  had  she  finished  when  there  was  a  violent 
knocking  at  the  door,  and  Montpensier  was  obliged  to 
swallow  his  rage  and  excitement  before  answering  it. 
Francois  burst  into  the  room. 

"  It  is  the  king's  messenger,  Monseigneur,"  he  cried, 
excitedly,  "  and  he  insists  on  seeing  you  at  once." 

"  I  cannot  see  him  now,"  said  Montpensier,  angrily. 

"  But  I  beg  of  you,  Monseigneur,"  said  another 
voice  from  behind  the  valet,  "to  grant  me  a  mo- 
ment" 

24 


3/0  A   PAR  FIT  GEN  TIL  KNIGHT 

"  Enter,  then,"  said  Montpensier,  controlling  him- 
self with  an  effort,  "  since  you  are  so  insistent." 

The  messenger  entered  the  room  and  the  prince 
recognized  him  as  a  lieutenant  of  the  queen-mother's 
guard.  Victoire,  at  the  appearance  of  the  valet,  had 
concealed  herself  behind  a  hanging.  The  messenger 
handed  Montpensier  a  sealed  letter,  which  the  latter 
at  once  tore  open  and  read. 

It  was  from  Catherine  de  Medicis,  demanding  his 
immediate  presence  at  court. 

"  What  is  the  news  from  Paris  ? "  inquired  the 
prince,  when  he  had  read  the  letter. 

"  There  is  much  excitement,  Monseigneur,  and  it  is 
rumored  at  the  Louvre  that  the  King  of  Navarre  and 
all  the  Huguenots  are  to  be  put  to  the  sword  at  once. 
At  any  rate  all  the  Catholic  princes  that  are  away 
from  court  are  being  summoned  in  great  haste." 

"  There  is  no  reply,  Monsieur,"  said  Montpensier, 
with  a  gesture  of  dismissal. 

When  the  messenger  had  gone  Victoire  came  forth 
from  behind  the  hanging.  The  prince  sat  despond- 
ently on  the  divan,  his  chin  resting  on  his  hand. 
Victoire  stood  before  him,  waiting  for  him  to  speak. 

"  Victoire,"  he  said,  with  infinite  sadness,  at  length, 
"  this  letter  is  an  imperative  summons  to  court  from 
the  queen-mother.  I  fear  that  terrible  events  are 
about  to  occur  in  Paris ;  even  a  massacre  of  all  the 
Huguenots  in  France  is  perhaps  imminent.  As  for 
ourselves,  I  know  not  what  to  say.  Our  life  together 
has  been  filled  with  but  false  happiness  at  best ;  we 
were  never  suited  to  one  another.  It  has  only  been 
through  the  intervention  of  Raoul,  on  whom  in  return 


A   DISASTER  AND  A  LIGHT  371 

we  have  brought  the  utmost  misery,  that  we  have 
maintained  our  relationship  so  well.  It  is  obvious 
that  we  must  part.  I  cannot  believe  you  guilty  in 
the  face  of  Raoul's  assurance  of  your  innocence. 
Why  he  had  to  love  you  and  suffer  so  in  his  endeavor 
to  maintain  our  comfort,  God  only  knows.  When  I 
think  of  what  he  has  endured  for  our  sakes  —  God 
help  me  !  —  but  I  almost  wish  you  had  always  loved 
him  and  that  you  two  might  have  been  happy  to- 
gether. I  must  go,  now,"  he  continued,  his  voice  giv- 
ing every  evidence  of  breaking,  "  and  it  were  better 
that  I  should  never  see  you  again.  Here  is  my  hand 
and  with  it  my  forgiveness  for  any  harm  you  have  ever 
done  me.  I  beg  of  you  to  pardon  the  unhappiness  I 
have  so  often  caused  you.  Champigny  and  all  its 
estates  shall  remain  yours.  I  —  I  hardly  know  what 
else  to  say  to  you  —  except  —  this :  Love  Raoul 
always  —  as  I  shall  love  him;  make  him  happy  as 
you  alone  can.  I  —  I  thank  God  for  such  a  friend  !  " 
He  was  gone  before  she  could  speak,  although  she 
had  knelt  at  his  feet  and  had  showered  his  hand  with 
mingled  kisses  and  tears.  There  were  tears  in  his 
eyes  also  before  he  left  her,  and  she  fancied  that 
she  heard  him  in  the  corridor,  sobbing  as  though 
his  heart  would  break.  She  threw  herself  on  the 
divan,  crushed  with  a  weight  of  remorseful  grief. 
What  ruin  she  had  brought  on  these  two  men,  and 
what  nobility  each,  in  his  own  way,  had  displayed ! 
Her  dislike  for  Montpensier  was  supplanted  by  the 
most  profound  respect ;  after  all,  he  had  truly  loved 
his  friend.  In  her  despair  she  was  fully  conscious  of 
but  one  yearning,  which  seemed  to  absorb  all  the  in- 


3/2  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

terests  of  her  life ;  the  image  of  Chabanes  as  he  stood 
fearless  before  her  enraged  husband  and  accepted 
another's  blame  arose  before  her,  and  she  longed  to 
rest  her  tired  head  on  his  noble  breast  and  sob  out 
the  sorrow  that  overwhelmed  her.  How  she  yearned 
for  his  gentle  voice  and  the  true  words  of  comfort 
that  he  alone  could  offer !  How  she  longed  for  the 
opportunity  to  show  her  remorse  and  repentance  for 
having  so  recklessly  disregarded  his  advice  and  for 
having  so  cruelly  tortured  him  with  her  childishness ! 
And  how  her  spirit  recoiled  in  abhorrence  at  the 
thought  of  the  valiant  M.  de  Guise,  seizing  his  cloak 
and  allowing  Raoul  —  her  Raoul,  who  loved  her  so 
truly  and  so  nobly  !  — to  sacrifice  himself! 

She  wished  it  were  morning  that  she  might  send  for 
him,  and  she  went  to  the  curtained  window  in  the 
hope  of  discovering  evidences  of  the  dawn.  The 
round,  white  moon  was  still  shining  high  in  the  dark 
sky.  Below  her,  in  the  court,  she  saw  men  and  horses 
and  she  could  hear  the  murmur  of  voices  and  the  ring 
of  hoofs  on  the  pavement.  It  was  the  Prince  de 
Montpensier  and  his  retainers  starting  for  Paris.  Al- 
ready they  had  mounted  and  a  groom  had  opened 
the  great  gate  to  the  park.  The  gentlemen  were 
filing  out,  and  the  prince  remained  for  a  moment  be- 
hind. Now  they  are  all,  save  him,  in  the  park.  He 
wheels  his  horse  and,  removing  his  plumed  hat,  looks 
up  to  the  window  where  she  stands.  His  face  is  set 
with  unutterable  sadness,  but  he  forces  a  smile  and 
throws  her  a  kiss.  Now  he  has  dashed  through  the 
gateway,  as  he  thinks,  to  leave  Champigny  forever. 

The  princess  turned  to  her  divan  with  a  sigh  of  in- 


HE   WHEELS    HIS    HORSE   AND    LOOKS    UP   TO    THE   WINDOW 


A   DISASTER  AND  A   LIGHT  3/3 

finite  woe,  the  while  her  husband  rode  toward  Paris 
at  the  head  of  his  half-dozen  gentlemen.  As  long  as 
his  life  lasted,  he  knew,  he  would  carry  in  his  heart 
that  picture  of  the  fair,  grief-stricken  woman  outlined 
in  the  casement  high  above  him,  of  the  pale,  beautiful 
face  on  which  the  white  moon  shed  its  melancholy  light. 

Presently  Victoire  called  for  Antoinette.  The 
entire  household  of  the  chateau  had  been  aroused  by 
the  arrival  of  the  royal  messenger  and  the  departure 
of  the  prince. 

"  Madame,"  asked  the  maid,  with  great  agitation, 
"  do  you  know  what  has  become  of  M.  de  Chabanes?  " 

"  No,  Antoinette ;  can  he  not  be  found  ?  "  said 
Victoire,  excitedly.  She  was  suddenly  filled  with  a 
vague  fear  for  him,  knowing  in  what  desperation  he 
must  be. 

"  M.  de  Montpensier,  before  leaving,  asked  Antoine 
to  call  M.  le  Comte,  but  changed  his  mind  before  the 
valet  could  obey.  Antoine  had  started  for  M.  de 
Chabanes'  apartments  when  his  master  called  him 
back.  I  heard  them  talking  of  M.  le  Comte  and, 
passing  Francois'  door,  I  knocked.  There  was  no 
answer,  and  at  length  I  ventured  to  push  open  the 
door.  The  apartments  were  deserted." 

Scarcely  had  the  maid  finished  speaking  when 
Frangois  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"  Quick,  Frangois,"  exclaimed  Victoire,  who  saw 
despair  written  on  the  valet's  countenance,  "  tell  us 
what  has  happened." 

"  Heaven  alone  knows,  Madame,"  replied  Frangois, 
who  was  wringing  his  hands  in  despair.  "  His  horse 
is  gone  and  he  has  left  no  word.  The  messenger  that 


374  A   PARFIT  GENTTL  KNIGHT 

came  for  M.  de  Montpensier  saw  M.  le  Comte.  Be- 
fore departing  the  messenger  said  to  me,  '  A  half- 
hour  ago  I  saw  a  man  riding  on  the  road  to  Paris 
whom  I  could  swear  I  recognized  as  the  Comte  de 
Chabanes.  I  approached  him  and  spoke  several 
words  to  him.  He  merely  regarded  me  blankly, 
gave  me  no  answer,  and  rode  on.  Had  I  not  carried 
such  important  messages  I  should  have  arrested  him, 
for  M.  de  Chabanes  is  an  escaped  prisoner  of  the 
Bastille  and  there  is  a  price  on  his  head.  I  should 
gather  from  his  strange  behavior  and  the  fact  that  he 
is  riding  boldly  and  undisguised  toward  Paris  that 
the  count  has  lost  his  reason  ! ' ' 

"  And  why  have  you  not  told  us  this  before?"  de- 
manded the  princess,  frantic  with  fear  for  the  count. 

"  Madame,  I  have  been  seeking  him  everywhere 
about  the  neighborhood,  but  I  have  found  no  trace 
of  him." 

For  some  minutes  the  princess  paced  the  floor, 
consumed  by  intense  grief.  Finally  she  told  the  aston- 
ished maid  to  be  seated  and  to  listen  to  her  atten- 
tively. Francois,  in  utter  dejection,  still  stood  in  the 
doorway. 

"  Antoinette,"  said  Victoire,  speaking  very  rapidly, 
as  though  she  had  considered  well  what  she  was 
saying,  "  do  you  remember,  when  we  were  girls  to- 
gether at  Mezieres,  how  we  used  to  shock  the  marquis, 
my  father,  by  donning  men's  clothes  and  racing  like 
mad  across  the  fields,  astride  the  ponies  of  the 
guard?" 

"Yes,  Madame.     Why?" 

"  I  am  going  to  see  if  I  have  forgotten  how.     I 


A  DISASTER  AND  A  LIGtiT  375 

will  disguise  myself  in  the  prince's  clothing,  a  wig, 
and  a  false  beard,  take  a  horse,  and  money,  and  ride 
to  Paris.  I  am  going  to  see  if  I  can  overtake  M.  de 
Chabanes.  Will  you  accompany  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Madame,"  replied  the  maid,  eagerly ;  "  but  we 
must  make  haste.  Already  he  has  an  hour's  start." 

"  Francois,"  continued  Victoire,  with  determination, 
"  saddle  three  of  the  best  horses  at  once  and  prepare 
to  accompany  us  to  Paris." 

"But  I  will  go  alone,  if  you  desire,  Madame," 
volunteered  the  valet,  who  disliked  the  prospect  of 
accompanying  two  women  on  such  a  journey. 

"Thank  you,  Francois,"  replied  the  princess;  "we 
will  all  go." 

"Antoinette,"  said  Victoire,  a  few  moments  later, 
when  they  were  hastily  donning  masculine  clothing, 
"you  have  often  expressed  a  hope  of  ending  your 
days  in  the  Church ;  are  you  ready  now  to  follow  me 
to  the  convent?" 

"  With  all  my  heart,  Madame,"  cried  the  maid,  her 
black  eyes  flashing  with  eagerness. 

"  Very  well,  when  our  search  for  M.  de  Chabanes 
is  ended,  I  shall  be  ready  to  go  to  Mother  Frangoise 
and  tell  her  that  I  will  stay." 

An  hour  later  a  passing  stranger  would  have 
believed  he  saw  three  men  riding  forth  from  the 
chateau  on  the  road  to  Paris  as  the  first  streaks  of 
morning  light  shot  across  the  sky. 

Francois  rode  behind  Victoire  and  her  maid.  The 
princess,  whose  heart  was  heavy  with  the  emotion  of 
the  night  and  her  fear  for  Chabanes,  in  part  con- 
fided both  to  Antoinette.  The  maid,  long  since  the 


376  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

conqueror  of  any  jealousy  she  may  have  once  known, 
rejoiced  in  the  happiness  with  which  the  count  would 
learn  of  the  princess'  affection  and  fidelity,  and  she 
breathed  many  a  prayer  that  they  might  succeed  in 
saving  him  from  all  harm.  To  keep  up  their  flag- 
ging spirits  they  planned  their  future,  when  M.  de 
Chabanes  would  visit  Victoire  at  the  peaceful  convent 
of  Sainte  Catherine  and  they  would  unite  their  efforts 
to  make  bright  the  remainder  of  his  gallant  life. 


XXXII 

A  PROMISE  AND  A  BLUNDER 

ON  the  evening  of  the  second  day  after  he  had  left 
Champigny  —  that  is,  on  Saturday,  the  twenty- 
third   of  August,    1572  —  the   Comte   de   Chabanes 
rode  idly  into  Paris.     He  had  ridden  slowly,  at  night 
tethering  his  horse  and  sleeping  in  a  field,  and  he 
had  had  nothing  to  eat  since  he  had  started.     How- 
ever, he  felt  no  hunger.     Indeed,  it  could  scarcely  be 
said  that  he  was  conscious  of  any  distinct  feeling  or 
desire.     He  seemed  to  be  wandering  in  a  sort  of 
waking  dream  that  absorbed  all  sense  of  personality. 
The  streets  of  Paris  possessed  some  vague  familiarity, 
and  he  rode  idly  up  and  down  them,  gazing  vacantly 
at  the  houses  and  the  people.     The  city  was  thronged 
with  cavaliers,  both  Catholic  and  Huguenot,  attracted 
from  all  over  France  by  the  marriage  of  Henri  de 
Navarre  and  Marguerite  de  Valois,  which  had  taken 
place   on    the    preceding    Monday.     As   Chabanes' 
horse  at  length  turned  into  the  Rue  Saint-Denis,  a 
small  troop  of  cavaliers,  all  in  red  cloaks  and  sur- 
rounding a  personage  evidently  of  no  little  impor- 
tance, dashed  past  him.     The  personage  had  hardly 
ridden  twenty  paces  before   he  reined  in  his  horse, 
and,  leaving  his  attendants  to  continue  on  their  way, 
he  rode  quickly  back  until  he  was  at  the  count's  side. 


378  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"Do  I  again  have  the  pleasure,  M.  de  Chabanes?" 
he  inquired,  ironically. 

The  count  turned  and  eyed  him  coldly.  The  man 
that  had  just  accosted  him  was  the  Due  d'Anjou. 
There  was  but  a  faint  gleam  of  recognition  in  Cha- 
banes' eye,  as  he  bowed  stiffly. 

"  Your  coolness  is  unbounded,  M.  de  Chabanes," 
continued  Anjou,  with  no  little  astonishment  in  his 
tone,  "  when  you  know  that  it  is  absolutely  certain 
that  I  shall  at  once  have  you  arrested,  and  that  you 
will  be  returned  to  the  Bastille  from  which  you  so 
miraculously  escaped." 

Still  Chabanes  did  not  reply.  He  was  feebly  and 
vaguely  trying  to  realize  the  import  of  the  duke's 
words,  which  sounded  to  his  disordered  mind  inco- 
herent and  meaningless. 

Anjou,  not  realizing  the  count's  mental  condition, 
gazed  at  him  admiringly.  "  Pardieu  !  You  are  too 
audacious  a  man,  Monsieur,"  he  said,  in  a  patronizing 
tone,  "  to  be  languishing  in  prison." 

Chabanes  had  at  last  found  a  word.  "  Yes,"  he 
murmured,  not  having  the  slightest  idea  as  to  what 
he  heard  or  said.  He  was  like  a  child  that  has  learned 
a  new  word,  and  he  kept  repeating  the  monosyllable 
to  himself,  "  Yes  — yes  —  yes." 

Anjou  was  evidently  contemplating  some  impulsive 
idea,  as  he  did  not  speak  again  for  several  moments, 
riding  slowly  at  the  count's  side.  "  You  can  be  of 
service  to  me,  M.  de  Chabanes,"  he  exclaimed, 
presently ;  "  are  you  willing  to  help  me  if  I  assure 
you  of  a  full  pardon  ?  " 

"  Service  —  help  me  —  pardon,"  thought  Chabanes, 
inanely.  He  repeated  aloud  his  monosyllable,  "  Yes." 


A   PROMISE  AND  A   BLUNDER  379 

"  Good,"  exclaimed  Monsieur,  "  and  since  we  are 
at  the  Louvre  we  will  dismount  and  enter.  Of 
course,  you  need  have  no  fear  of  any  one  accosting 
you  while  you  are  with  me." 

Chabanes  watched  Monsieur  dismount,  and,  as  he 
had  long  been  in  the  saddle,  the  idea  occurred  to  him 
to  follow  his  companion's  example.  Then,  from 
sheer  lack  of  anything  else  to  do,  he  mechanically 
followed  Anjou  into  the  palace,  up  the  stairs,  and 
down  a  long  corridor.  Monsieur  at  length  paused,  cau- 
tiously half-opened  a  door,  and  peeped  within.  Then, 
as  though  satisfied  that  all  was  well,  he  opened  the 
door  wide  and  beckoned  Chabanes  to  follow  him. 

"  Now,  Monsieur,"  he  said,  to  the  count,  who  was 
gazing  vacantly  around  the  apartment,  "you  doubt- 
less recognize  the  king's  cabinet.  To-night  in  the 
presence  of  his  Majesty  I  shall  accuse  you  of  a  pecca- 
dillo of  which  you  are  really  not  guilty.  All  I  ask  of 
you  is  to  uphold  me  by  penitently  confessing.  In 
return  for  this  slight  service  I  promise  you  that  you 
will  be  pardoned  by  the  king.  Do  you  consent?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Chabanes,  mechanically.  He  had 
seated  himself  in  the  king's  favorite  arm-chair. 

"Very  well,"  replied  Anjou,  with  evident  delight; 
"  but  of  course  you  cannot  remain  at  his  Majesty's 
table.  I  will  conceal  you  in  here,"  he  added,  press- 
ing a  spring  that  caused  one  of  the  panels  in  the  wall 
to  slide  back  and  reveal  a  narrow  recess  behind.  "  Go 
in  there  and  lie  down  until  I  am  ready  to  bring  you 
before  the  king.  I  will  see  that  food  is  brought 
you." 

An  idea  crossed  Chabanes'  deadened  consciousness. 


380  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

This  opening  in  the  wall  suggested  to  him  his  chamber 
in  prison. 

"  The  Bastille  again  !  "  he  muttered,  half  to  himself. 

Anjou  laughed.  "  Exactly,"  he  said.  "  But  for 
a  few  hours  only." 

The  count  entered  the  closet  and  Anjou  closed  the 
panel,  leaving  Chabanes  in  darkness.  The  latter  was 
becoming  conscious  of  two  sensations,  —  fatigue  and 
hunger.  Accordingly  he  sat  down  on  the  floor  and 
began  wishing  for  something  to  eat.  Presently  the 
panel  slid  back  again,  and  food  and  water  were  pushed 
into  the  closet.  At  first  Chabanes  did  not  notice 
them,  but  at  length,  in  changing  his  position,  his 
hand  came  in  contact  with  the  cup,  and  he  began  to 
eat  and  drink  with  avidity.  When  he  had  finished 
everything  he  could  find  he  stretched  himself  on  the 
floor  of  the  closet  and  quickly  fell  fast  asleep. 

When  he  awoke  he  was  again  himself.  He  was  at 
a  loss  to  know  where  he  was,  and  he  at  once  tried  to 
recall  the  events  of  the  preceding  day.  The  scene  in 
the  chamber  of  the  princess  at  Champigny  came  back 
to  him  vividly.  He  recalled  leaving  the  prince  and 
Victoire  and  going  out  of  the  chateau,  but  after  that 
his  mind  was  blank.  His  meditations  were  inter- 
rupted by  the  sound  of  voices,  and  he  perceived 
a  faint  ray  of  light  gleaming  through  a  tiny  crack. 
Creeping  toward  this,  he  applied  his  ear  to  what  was 
evidently  a  wooden  wall  or  door.  Instantly  he  drew 
back  with  surprise.  He  had  heard,  with  unmis- 
takable distinctness,  the  voice  of  Charles  IX.,  saying, 
in  his  familiar,  petulant  tone,  "  I  tell  you,  Madame,  I 
will  not  consent !  " 


A   PROMISE  AND  A   BLUNDER  381 

Chabanes  began  to  realize  that  he  was  in  the  Louvre, 
probably  in  some  closet  adjoining  the  king's  cabinet. 
He  decided  to  make  no  noise  for  the  present,  and  to 
listen. 

"  Nevertheless,"  persisted  a  voice  that  Chabanes 
recognized  as  belonging  to  the  queen-mother,  Cath- 
erine de  Medicis,  "  the  Huguenots  have  sent  de- 
spatches to  Germany  and  to  the  Swiss  cantons  for 
twenty  thousand  horse  and  foot,  and,  not  only  are  the 
Protestant  captains  making  levies  throughout  the 
kingdom  and  preparing  to  meet  and  organize  at 
a  time  and  place  already  chosen,  but  the  Catholic 
princes  are  forming  a  league,  and  will  soon  elect 
a  captain-general  to  pursue,  independently  of  your- 
self, the  war  of  extermination  on  which  they  are 
determined." 

"  Madame,  you  are  the  victim  of  unauthentic  ad- 
vices. I  do  not  believe  half  of  these  reports.  My 
trust  in  the  admiral  precludes  such  a  belief." 

"But,  Sire,"  protested  the  voice  of  the  Due 
d'Anjou,  "  you  are  in  daily  danger  of  assassination  at 
the  hands  of  these  men,  whose  avowed  ambition  is  to 
see  Henri  de  Navarre  on  the  throne  of  France.  Do 
you  not  recall  the  enterprise  of  Meaux  and  the 
attempt  led  against  you,  two  years  ago,  by  the  Comte 
de  Chabanes,  who  so  remarkably  effected  his  escape 
from  the  Bastille  not  long  since?  " 

"  Monsieur,"  retorted  the  king,  haughtily,  "  the 
enterprise  of  Meaux  has  been  terribly  avenged,  and 
I  have  always  had  my  doubts  about  the  guilt  of  M.  de 
Chabanes,  whom  I  had  reason  to  consider  an  honest 
gentleman  and  one  of  the  most  loyal  of  my  subjects. 


382  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

I  have  always  regretted  that  I  accepted  the  testimony 
of  that  cut-throat  protege  of  yours  as  evidence  suffi- 
cient to  cause  the  imprisonment  of  the  count.  It 
may  possibly  be  news  to  you  when  I  tell  you  that  I 
have  given  strict  orders  that  M.  de  Chabanes  shall 
not  be  rearrested." 

"  But,  Sire  —  "  began  Anjou,  the  king  angrily  in- 
terrupting him. 

"  This  audience  is  at  an  end,  Monsieur." 

Chabanes  could  hear  retreating  footsteps  and  the 
opening  and  closing  of  a  door ;  doubtless  Monsieur 
had  retired. 

"  And  now,  mother,"  said  the  king,  petulantly,  "  if 
you  have  anything  more  to  say  to  me,  in  the  name  of 
Heaven  say  it  quickly.  I  am  sick  of  all  these  assas- 
sinations and  this  reckless  bloodshed." 

"  My  son,"  replied  Catherine,  coldly,  "  it  is  your 
duty  to  the  state,  to  yourself,  and  to  me  that  you  take 
immediate  steps  to  prevent  the  accomplishment  of  the 
plots  that  are  being  daily  woven  by  these  Huguenots 
about  the  steps  of  your  throne  and  that  portend 
only  disaster.  The  designs  and  enterprises  of  the 
Reformers  will  die  with  their  leader,  the  admiral.  A 
single  sword-thrust  now  will  avert  the  criminal  sacri- 
fice of  a  thousand  lives  at  a  future  time.  A  score 
of  Huguenot  chiefs  removed,  and  the  safety  of  your 
throne  will  be  assured." 

"  But,  instead,"  exclaimed  the  king,  "  I  have  sworn 
to  avenge  the  attack  made  yesterday  on  the  admiral 
by  M.  de  Guise's  assassin  !  " 

"  Sire,"  interposed  another  voice,  which  as  yet  had 
not  spoken,  "  it  is  my  duty  to  inform  you  that  the  insti- 


A  PROMISE  AND  A   BLUNDER  383 

gators  of  that  assassin  are,  instead  of  the  Guises,  none 
other  than  your  brother,  the  Due  d'Anjou,  and  the 
queen,  your  mother." 

"  Is  whatTavannes  says  true,  Madame?  "  demanded 
the  king,  in  a  rage. 

"  It  is,  my  son.  We  attempted  to  relieve  you  of  a 
duty  that  must  necessarily  be  painful  to  you,  but 
which  is  none  the  less  your  duty." 

"  Sire,"  continued  the  Mardchal  de  Tavannes,  "  it  is 
true  that  the  safety  of  us  all  lies  in  the  extermination 
of  these  treacherous  Protestants.  I  advise  you  to 
order  the  killing  not  only  of  the  admiral,  but  of  every 
Huguenot  in  Paris,  including  the  King  of  Navarre 
and  the  Prince  de  CondeV' 

"  My  son,"  continued  Catherine  de  Medicis,  "  let 
me  again  remind  you  of  the  enterprise  of  Meaux, 
when  these  accursed  heretics  attempted  to  gain  pos- 
session of  your  person.  Do  you  desire  to  see  the 
Due  de  Guise  exalted  to  the  first  place  in  the  king- 
dom as  the  leader  of  the  Catholics,  and  the  real  king? 
The  time  to  strike  a  decisive  blow  has  arrived,  and 
you  must  choose  your  future.  Will  you  be  king,  or 
not?" 

"  Norn  de  Dieu  ! "  shouted  Charles  IX.,  in  fury. 
"  I  will  not  answer  you  now.  Leave  me,  all  of  you, 
and  return  within  the  hour.  You  shall  then  have  my 
final  reply." 

Chabanes  heard  the  others  depart,  and  then  the 
king  muttering  incoherently  to  himself  as  he  paced 
up  and  down  the  cabinet.  The  count  had  quickly 
realized  what  was  occurring.  Catherine  and  her 
followers  were  attempting  to  gain  the  king's  consent 


384  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

to  a  massacre  of  all  the  Huguenots  then  assembled  in 
Paris,  including  the  good  old  Amiral  de  Coligny,  who 
had  for  years  been  the  very  soul  of  the  Protestant 
organization. 

The  count's  memory  pictured  to  him  in  a  flash  an 
incident  of  his  boyhood  of  which  Coligny  had  been 
the  hero.  It  was  the  daring  rescue  by  the  admiral  of 
a  five-year-old  lad  who  had  fallen  into  a  millstream  at 
Chatillon.  The  count  and  his  father  were  at  that 
time  the  guests  of  the  admiral.  The  five-year-old  lad 
that  Coligny  dexterously  drew  from  beneath  the 
paddles  of  the  mill,  was  Raoul  de  la  Tour  d'lvoire, 
now  Comte  de  Chabanes. 

The  count  rose  to  his  feet,  feeling  carefully  above  him 
that  he  might  not  strike  his  head.  He  made  several 
efforts  to  move  that  part  of  the  wall  where  the  ray  of 
light  shone,  being  certain  that  it  must  be  a  sliding 
panel  of  some  sort.  The  panel  did  not  budge. 
Chabanes  began  to  knock  softly,  and  soon  he  heard 
the  king  cease  his  hurried  walking  to  and  fro  and 
approach.  Charles  IX.,  ascertaining  that  the  noise 
came  from  behind  the  panel,  went  to  it  and  demanded 
in  a  tone  that  was  not  entirely  reassured,  "  Who  is 
there?" 

"  It  is  I,  Sire,  —  the  Comte  de  Chabanes." 

"  Chabanes  here,  and  in  the  secret  closet !  "  ex- 
claimed the  king,  incredulously.  "  Am  I  dream- 
ing?" 

The  count,  hearing  nothing,  continued  his  knock- 
ing. The  king  crossed  the  room,  removed  an  arque- 
bus from  the  wall,  and,  carrying  it  ready  for  use  in 
his  right  hand,  cautiously  approached  the  secret 


I   DISAPPEAR   BY  THE  AID  OF  FAITHFUL  AND  SUBTLE   FRIENDS' 


A   PROMISE  AND  A   BLUNDER  385 

panel,  and,  without  a  word  of  warning,  touched  the 
spring  that  caused  it  to  slide  back. 

The  next  moment  Chabanes  was  on  his  knee  before 
his  sovereign. 

The  king's  cabinet  was  a  large  room,  the  walls  of 
which  were  hung  with  tapestries  and  decorated  with 
trophies  of  arms.  Numerous  consoles  supported 
cabinets  of  rare  glassware  and  porcelain.  At  one 
side  was  an  elegantly  carved  priedieu,  and  in  the 
centre  of  the  chamber  stood  a  table,  on  which  lay 
scattered  in  great  confusion  books,  pens,  and  sheets 
of  paper.  A  large  greyhound  lay  beside  the  king's 
chair. 

"  M.  de  Chabanes,"  said  the  king,  not  unkindly, 
"  how  do  you  manage  to  appear  so  mysteriously  in 
and  vanish  from  secure  places?" 

"  Sire,"  replied  Chabanes,  respectfully,  "  I  disap- 
pear by  the  aid  of  faithful  and  subtle  friends.  I 
appear  I  know  not  how.  I  have  been  half-mad  for 
a  time  and  have  not  known  where  I  was  or  what  I 
did  —  only  that  of  a  sudden  I  find  myself  secreted 
in  your  Majesty's  closet." 

"  And  you  overheard  the  conversation  that  has 
just  occurred  here  ?  " 

"  I  heard  your  Majesty  say  that  you  did  not 
believe  me  guilty  of  the  accusations  brought  against 
me  by  the  Due  d'Anjou." 

"  Yet,  now  that  I  find  you  secreted  in  my  closet,  I 
scarce  know  what  to  think,  Monsieur." 

"  Sire,  I  am  at  as  great  a  loss  to  explain  the  cir- 
cumstance as  is  your  Majesty." 

"  M.  de  Chabanes,  I  have  reason  to  believe  in  your 
25 


386  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

honesty,  notwithstanding  I  did  for  a  time  suspect  you 
of  a  grave  and  treasonous  act.  Did  you  intend  my 
assassination  on  the  night  you  accompanied  me  to  the 
Rue  des  Barres  and  were  so  severely  wounded  by  the 
cut-throats?" 

"I,  Sire?"  exclaimed  Chabanes,  in  amazement; 
he  began  to  realize  the  cause  of  his  imprisonment  in 
the  Bastille.  "  Your  Majesty  knows  that  I  received 
my  wounds  in  your  defence." 

Charles  IX.,  suspicious  and  distrustful  as  he  was, 
could  not  doubt  the  sincerity  of  the  count's  words. 

"  M.  de  Chabanes,"  said  the  king,  "  you  have  —  as 
I  should  have  known  —  been  the  victim  of  a  base  lie. 
I  have  rescinded  my  order  for  your  imprisonment; 
you  are  free." 

The  count  bowed.  The  king  again  began  pacing 
the  floor,  without  paying  further  attention  to  Chabanes. 
The  latter  saw  slipping  from  him  an  opportunity  to 
plead  what  was  without  doubt  the  greatest  cause  in  the 
world.  The  ominous  cloud  that  overhung  the  king's 
brow  made  him  afraid  to  speak.  Presently  the  king 
turned  to  him. 

"What,  Monsieur,"  he  said,  sharply;  "still  here? 
Did  I  not  tell  you  you  were  free  ?  " 

"  But,"  said  Chabanes,  "  I  cannot  accept  the  par- 
don. I  have  just  overheard  the  conversation  that 
took  place  here." 

"  True,"  muttered  Charles  IX.,  who  had  for  a  mo- 
ment forgotten  that  fact.  "  And  what,  Monsieur," 
he  continued,  "  is  the  information  that  you  have  so 
gained  ?  " 

"  That  there  is  a  vile  conspiracy  on  hand,  Sire,  to 


A   PROMISE  AND  A   BLUNDER 

assassinate  one  of  your  Majesty's  most  faithful  sub- 
jects, the  Amiral  de  Coligny,  as  well  as  countless 
other  gentlemen  whose  sole  crime  is  the  sincerity  of 
their  religious  belief." 

"  And  you  think  this  conspiracy  vile,  Monsieur?" 

"  I  can  conceive  of  nothing  more  cowardly,  Sire, 
than  for  a  host  that  has  cordially  received  his  guests 
to  give  orders  for  their  murder  as  they  sleep." 

"  And  in  case  I  give  these  orders  you  will  consider 
your  king  the  basest  of  cowards  ?  " 

"  Exactly,"  replied  Chabanes,  fearlessly. 

Charles  IX.  glanced  at  him  in  amazement.  How- 
ever, he  was  not  angry. 

"  You  have  been  suspected  of  being  a  Huguenot, 
Monsieur,"  he  said,  calmly.  "  You  have  been  accused 
of  plotting  against  my  life  in  behalf  of  my  cousin,  the 
King  of  Navarre.  As  I  have  told  you,  I  do  not 
believe  this  latter  accusation.  But  what  assurance 
have  I  that  you  are  not  yourself  a  heretic  and  in 
league  with  those  that  the  queen-mother  assures  me 
are  threatening  the  safety  of  the  throne  of  France?  " 

"  Sire,  I  can  offer  you  none,  except  my  word  that 
I  am  not  a  Huguenot." 

"  M.  de  Chabanes,"  said  the  king,  slowly,  "  that  is 
sufficient." 

"  Nor  am  I  a  Catholic,"  continued  Chabanes,  "  in 
the  sense  that  I  seek  the  extermination  of  my  fellow- 
countryman  merely  because  he  prefers  his  manner  of 
worship  to  my  Mass." 

"  But,"  continued  the  king,  glad  of  this  opportunity 
to  argue  a  matter  that  weighed  heavily  on  his  con- 
science, "  it  is  perhaps  true  that,  after  all,  it  is  not  the 


388  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

difference  in  religious  views  that  actuates  all  these 
dissensions  that  have  so  torn  my  kingdom,  but  per- 
sonal ambition  and  motive  on  the  part  of  these 
Huguenots,  who  would  gladly  take  from  me  my 
throne  and  set  up  in  my  stead  my  cousin  of  Navarre." 

"  Doubtless,  Sire,  there  are  many  in  both  parties 
that  have  personal  motives.  Nevertheless,  there  are 
thousands  of  just  such  men  as  the  good  admiral  that 
are  tolerant  and  that  desire  nothing  better  than  the 
privilege  to  devote  their  lives  to  your  Majesty's 
service  in  peace  and  liberty." 

"  Which  being  the  case,  it  would  be  wrong  for  me 
to  take  such  heroic  measures  as  the  queen-mother  has 
suggested,  or  especially  as  M.  de  Tavannes  proposes?  " 

"  Decidedly.  Your  Majesty  would  thus  sacrifice 
hundreds  of  your  truest  subjects  for  the  sake  of  ex- 
terminating a  few  that  put  self  first." 

"  And  do  you  not  believe,  Monsieur,  that,  if  I 
desired  merely  to  rid  myself  of  troublesome  and 
ambitious  enemies,  I  would  do  well  to  seek  first  in 
the  ranks  of  the  Catholic  ?  " 

Chabanes  saw  in  this  an  indubitable  reference  to 
Guise  and  Anjou.  "  Beyond  all  doubt,  Sire,"  he 
replied. 

The  king  did  not  speak  for  some  time,  and  the 
count  ventured  to  continue :  "  Sire,  the  Amiral  de 
Coligny  is  a  brave,  true  gentleman,  who  has  given 
most  of  his  life  to  the  service  of  the  throne  of 
France,  and  would  gladly  offer  it  his  remaining  years, 
if  he  had  the  opportunity.  The  following  of  his 
religion  embraces  many  of  your  Majesty's  most  loyal 
subjects.  They  have  come  to  you  as  friends,  in  the 


A   PROMISE  AND  A   BLUNDER  389 

belief  that  this  marriage  of  the  King  of  Navarre  to 
your  Majesty's  sister  would  cement  forever  the  two 
parties  that  have  so  long  been  divided  before  the 
throne  they  long  to  serve.  If  your  Majesty  should 
now  give  the  order  for  their  murder,  the  world  would 
stand  aghast,  posterity  would  curse  you,  and  history 
would  brand  you  as  the  meanest  of  kings  and  the 
most  cowardly  of  men  !  " 

The  king  stopped  short  in  his  nervous  walk  and 
gazed  at  the  count  with  mingled  surprise  and  admira- 
tion. Not  even  Catherine  de  Medicis  dared  to  ad- 
dress him  thus.  He  could  not  know  the  desperate 
determination  that  prompted  such  daring  from  a 
simple  gentleman  of  the  court.  The  king  was  un- 
aware of  the  resolution  that  the  Comte  de  Chabanes 
had  just  formed,  that  he  would  not  at  any  risk  let 
slip  this  great  opportunity  to  do  incalculable  good. 

"  M.  de'  Chabanes,"  said  Charles  IX.,  impulsively, 
"  fear  not.  I  shall  not  give  the  order." 

At  that  moment  steps  were  heard  without.  "  It  is 
the  queen-mother  returning,"  said  the  king,  in  a  low 
tone.  "  Hide  yourself  behind  this  tapestry."  He 
pushed  Chabanes  quickly  into  a  curtained  recess  in 
the  wall. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  the  king  said, 
in  a  firm  tone,  "  Enter,  Madame." 

Chabanes  saw  the  door  open  and  the  queen-mother, 
Anjou,  Tavannes,  and  the  Mare*chal  de  Retz  enter. 

"  Well,  my  son,"  said  Catherine,  skilfully  conceal- 
ing her  anxiety  under  a  mask  of  melancholy,  "we 
have  returned,  as  you  directed,  for  your  decision. 
Tell  us  what  it  is." 


39O  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  My  decision,"  replied  Charles,  in  a  tone  of  de- 
termination, "  is  that  I  will  not  under  any  circum- 
stances sanction  the  cowardly  murder  of  my  subjects." 

For  several  minutes  no  one  spoke.  At  length  the 
queen-mother,  coming  close  to  the  king,  said  in  a 
tone  of  deep  sorrow,  "  My  son,  since  you  will  not 
heed  my  advice,  at  least  grant  to  myself  and  to 
your  brother  Henri  permission  to  retire  to  some 
remote  part  of  the  kingdom.  We  cannot  rest  here 
in  the  knowledge  that  our  lives  are  in  constant 
danger." 

"  Sire !  "  exclaimed  Anjou,  dropping  on  one  knee 
before  the  king,  "  hear  me  a  moment,  I  beseech  you. 
You  have  seen  fit  to  doubt  the  sincerity  of  my  state- 
ments, without  giving  me  an  opportunity  to  verify 
them.  Two  years  ago  I  accused  the  Huguenots  of 
attempting  your  Majesty's  life.  To-night  you  ex- 
pressed a  doubt  as  to  the  honesty  of  the  accusation. 
If  you  will  permit  me,  I  shall  confront  your  Majesty 
with  the  assassin  himself,  who  will  admit  his  guilt." 

With  these  words  Monsieur  crossed  the  room  to 
the  secret  panel  where  Chabanes  had  been  hid, 
pressed  the  spring,  and,  as  the  panel  slid  back,  said 
dramatically,  "  Come  forth,  M.  le  Comte !  " 

As  there  was  no  response  he  put  his  head  into  the 
closet  and  repeated  the  command. 

"  He  is  gone  !  "  he  exclaimed,  suddenly,  trembling 
with  terror. 

The  others  stared  at  him  in  amazement.  At  length 
the  king,  who  was  evidently  in  a  state  of  great  agita- 
tion, arose  from  his  chair,  commanding  with  a  gesture 
the  attention  of  the  others. 


A   PROMISE  AND  A   BLUNDER  391 

"  Yes,  he  is  not  there,"  he  said,  angrily,  "  but  he 
is  not  far  away.  The  mystery  of  his  presence  there 
is  clear  now.  He  had  agreed  to  confess  his  guilt,  had 
he  not,  Henri  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Sire,"  responded  Monsieur,  eagerly. 

"  And  instead,"  continued  the  king,  half  to  himself, 
"  he  seized  the  opportunity  I  granted  him  to  play  on 
my  feelings  with  his  lying  words  !  " 

Charles  IX.  seized  pen  and  paper. 

"  I  will  give  the  word  you  desire,"  he  cried,  in  a 
terrible  rage.  "  By  God's  death !  Since  you  think 
it  proper  to  kill  the  admiral,  I  consent ;  but  you  must 
kill  all  the  Huguenots  in  France  as  well,  so  that  there 
may  not  remain  one  that  can  reproach  me.  And  I 
order  you  to  commence  at  once  by  killing  me 
this  heretic  hypocrite  that  stands  behind  yonder 
tapestry !  " 

At  these  words,  with  a  cry  of  joy,  Anjou,  followed 
by  Tavannes,  drew  his  sword,  sprang  to  the  tapestry 
the  king  had  designated,  and  drew  it  aside. 

The  recess  was  empty. 


XXXIII 

A  MASSACRE  AND  A  MANIAC 

*  |  SHE  moment  Chabanes  heard  the  king,  influ- 
•*•  enced  by  his  strangely  mistaken  idea  of  Anjou's 
motive,  angrily  sanction  the  proposed  assassination  of 
Coligny,  he  determined  on  a  last  effort  to  save  the 
admiral's  life.  A  window  at  the  rear  of  the  recess 
was  open.  The  count  hastened  to  it,  realizing  that 
there  was  no  hope  of  escape  through  the  cabinet  of 
the  king,  and  found  that  just  beneath  it  was  a  ledge 
about  eighteen  inches  in  width  that  ran  along  the 
wall  of  the  palace.  He  distinguished,  twenty  paces 
farther  along  the  ledge,  a  scaffolding  that  some  work- 
men, repairing  the  wall,  had  not  yet  removed.  He 
hastily  climbed  out  of  the  window  on  to  the  ledge, 
along  which  he  ran  until  he  reached  the  scaffolding. 
By  means  of  this  latter  structure,  he  was  able  to  de- 
scend to  within  a  few  feet  of  the  ground,  whence  he 
dropped  to  the  soft  turf. 

In  the  courtyard  of  the  Louvre  everything  was  in 
the  utmost  confusion.  Soldiers,  horsemen,  torch- 
bearers,  and  messengers  ran  hither  and  thither  in  the 
greatest  excitement.  Chabanes  proceeded  at  once 
to  the  gate.  A  man  just  about  to  pass  through 
ahead  of  him  gave  the  guard  the  word,  and  in  his 
excitement  spoke  it  so  loud  that  the  count  over- 


CHABANES   PERCEIVED  A  MAN   STANDING  WITH   ONE   FOOT  ON   THE    BODY 


A  MASSACRE  AND  A   MANIAC  393 

heard  it ;  when  the  sentinel  challenged  Chabanes,  the 
latter  repeated,  "  Guise."  He  was  allowed  to  pass 
unmolested. 

Once  outside  he  found  the  streets  full  of  excited 
persons  scurrying  in  every  direction.  Bodies  of 
soldiery  in  the  uniforms  of  Guise's  and  Anjou's 
guards  marched  past  the  palace.  Chabanes  recog- 
nized the  Due  de  Guise  riding  at  the  head  of  a  troop 
of  horsemen,  side  by  side  with  Jean  Choron,  the 
provost  of  the  tradesmen.  The  count  noticed  that 
every  man  he  passed  wore  a  white  cross  on  his  hat 
and  a  band  of  white  around  his  sleeve. 

As  Chabanes  was  passing  into  the  Rue  de  Bethisy, 
in  which  resided  the  admiral,  the  bell  in  the  tower  of 
Saint  Germain  1'Auxerrois  rang  out  loudly  on  the 
night  air. 

"  The  signal !  "  cried  a  hundred  voices  at  once,  and 
immediately  the  street  began  to  swarm  with  men,  all 
running  toward  the  admiral's  house.  The  count  re- 
doubled his  speed,  determined  to  arrive  first.  As  he 
came  opposite  the  building  he  heard  an  outcry  and 
several  shots.  The  court  of  the  admiral's  house  was 
lighted  by  a  hundred  torches.  Suddenly  a  window 
on  the  second  story  was  opened  and  a  man  appeared. 
Chabanes  from  the  street  recognized  in  him  the 
German,  Besme. 

"  It  is  finished,  Monseigneur !  "  cried  Besme,  to 
some  one  in  the  court,  whom  Chabanes  could  not  see. 
The  German  retired  into  the  room  and  immediately 
reappeared,  dragging  after  him  the  body  of  a  man. 
Chabanes  saw  him  lift  this  body  and,  exerting  all  his 
strength,  hurl  it  from  the  window.  As  the  body  fell 


394  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

it  caught  on  a  ledge  of  stone,  and  it  seemed  that  its 
arms  reached  out  in  a  last  spasmodic  effort  to  save 
itself.  It  slid  along  the  ledge  and  fell  into  the  court. 
The  count  ran  with  all  haste  through  the  open  gate 
and  found  the  court  crowded  with  men,  surrounding 
a  central  group  beneath  the  window  at  which  Besme 
had  just  appeared.  Chabanes  pushed  his  way  to  the 
centre  of  the  crowd,  and  perceived  a  man  standing 
with  one  foot  on  the  body  that  had  just  been  cast  from 
above.  The  man  was  the  Due  de  Guise;  the  body 
was  that  of  Coligny.  The  countenance  of  the  former 
wore  a  melancholy  expression  as  he  gazed  thought- 
fully down  at  the  corpse  of  his  enemy,  from  which  the 
blood  flowed  in  a  dozen  places. 

How  much  more  terrible  would  have  been  the  storm 
of  emotion  that  waged  within  him,  could  he  have  fore- 
seen a  day,  some  years  later,  when  he,  too,  —  Henri 
de  Guise,  "  Le  Balafre,"-—  would  lie  a  senseless  heap 
of  mangled  flesh,  while  Henri  d'Anjou,  doomed  but 
a  few  days  later  to  meet  the  same  fate,  gloated  over 
the  murder  of  Guise,  as  Guise  now  gloated  over  that 
of  Coligny ! 

Chabanes  turned  away  from  the  place  in  deepest 
despair.  Guards  had  surrounded  the  admiral's  house 
two  hours  before,  and,  at  the  first  sound  of  the  tocsin, 
Besme,  at  the  head  of  fifty  men,  had  broken  into 
Coligny's  house,  killed  the  sentry,  and  assassinated 
the  admiral.  In  the  street  Chabanes  saw  that  men 
with  white  crosses  and  scarfs  were  breaking  into  all 
the  houses  that  were  not  similarly  adorned  and  where 
Huguenots  resided,  and  ruthlessly  putting  the  inhabi- 
tants to  death.  There  was  a  bedlam  of  crashing 


A   MASSACRE  AND   A   MANIAC  395 

swords,  guns  fired,  and  shrieks  of  agony  mingled  with 
the  brutal  yells  of  the  infuriated  mob. 

A  man  dressed  in  black,  pursued  by  a  laughing 
fellow  in  gayer  raiment,  ran  past  the  count.  "  Kill 
him  !  "  cried  the  pursuer,  eagerly;  "  he  has  no  cross." 
Chabanes  immediately  realized  the  significance  of  the 
white  badges  and,  seeing  a  hat  that  bore  one  and  that 
had  been  lost  in  some  scuffle,  he  hastily  substituted 
it  for  his  own,  at  the  same  time  tying  his  handker- 
chief around  his  sleeve.  This  was  done  just  in  time, 
for  several  armed  citizens,  looking  for  victims,  ap- 
proached him  a  moment  later  and  passed  him  only 
when  they  perceived  the  white  cross. 

Here  and  there  parties  of  Huguenot  gentlemen 
bravely  defended  themselves  against  their  assailants. 
Windows,  doors,  and  balconies  bristled  with  halberds, 
swords,  and  arquebuses.  Corpses  strewed  the  streets 
on  every  hand.  Occasionally  Chabanes  saw  two 
men,  each  with  a  white  cross  in  his  hat,  poniarding 
each  other.  They  were  taking  advantage  of  the 
occasion  to  avenge  petty  spites  and  personal  enmi- 
ties. The  count  resolved  to  make  the  most  of  every 
opportunity  to  defend  those  that  were  unequally 
matched  with  overwhelming  forces,  regardless  of  their 
party. 

In  the  Rue  des  Quatre  Fils  the  count  found  three 
men  clamoring  for  admittance  to  a  house.  He  joined 
them  as  they  burst  in  the  door  and  rushed  inside. 
The  front  rooms  of  the  house  were  all  deserted,  but 
in  a  rear  one  they  found  a  woman  half-dressed  stand- 
ing with  her  back  to  a  door.  The  three  men,  who 
were  in  advance  of  Chabanes,  approached  the  woman 


396  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

with  the  evident  purpose  of  killing  her.  The  count's 
indignation  was  so  great  that  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
pierce  one  of  the  men  from  behind  with  his  sword. 
The  other  two  turned  and  fell  on  the  count  with  fury, 
driving  him  back  to  the  wall  and  raining  ferocious 
blows  on  him.  His  advantage  as  a  superior  swords- 
man and  in  retaining  his  self-control  soon  exhibited 
itself.  He  managed  to  disarm  one  of  the  men  and  to 
disable  the  other,  before  his  companion  could  recover 
his  weapon.  The  last  had  had  enough  of  the  bewilder- 
ing fencing  of  Chabanes,  and  he  hastily  retreated 
through  the  nearest  window.  The  woman,  who  had 
watched  the  combat*  with  terror  lest  her  defender  be 
overpowered,  overwhelmed  Chabanes  with  thanks. 

"  You  are  my  husband's  savior  !  "  she  cried,  tears 
of  gratitude  rolling  down  her  cheeks.  "  He  is  ill  in 
this  room  and  would  surely  have  been  murdered  by 
these  men,  who  are  his  enemies." 

Chabanes  modestly  withdrew  to  the  street.  The 
gaily  dressed  man  of  the  Rue  de  B6thizy  rushed  past 
him,  sword  in  hand,  in  pursuit  of  a  disarmed  Hugue- 
not. Chabanes  recognized  in  the  pursuer  Chicot,  the 
court  jester,  whose  rapier  reeked  with  blood  and  who 
was  still  laughing  merrily.  Presently  three  Huguenots 
scurried  past  the  count,  their  eyes  bulging  with  terror. 
They  were  pursued  by  a  dozen  assassins  and  the 
count  joined  these  latter,  in  the  hope  of  assisting  the 
persecuted  men.  The  Huguenots  were  headed  for 
the  river,  into  which  they  plunged  amid  the  murmurs 
of  disappointment  from  the  Catholics.  One  of  these 
latter  brutally  seized  by  the  collar  a  lad  of  less  than 
ten,  who  had  just  shouted,  "  Long  live  the  admiral !  " 


A   MASSACRE  AND  A   MANIAC  397 

and  was  about  to  stab  the  child  with  a  dagger.  The 
count  attacked  the  bully,  piercing  the  latter's  throat. 
In  an  instant  five  others  fell  on  Chabanes,  with  the 
intention  of  avenging  their  comrade.  The  count 
managed  to  withstand  the  onslaught  for  a  few  minutes, 
but  he  realized  that  he  could  not  last  long  against 
such  opposition.  Just  as  one  of  his  antagonists  gave 
him  a  sword-thrust  through  the  left  arm,  there 
appeared  from  a  neighboring  street  a  man  bearing  a 
cresset-light  in  a  lantern  at  the  end  of  a  long  pole. 
The  child  that  Chabanes  had  just  saved,  who  was 
witnessing  the  combat  in  greatest  alarm,  ran  into  the 
middle  of  the  street  and,  slipping  between  the  legs  of 
the  lantern-bearer,  tripped  the  latter  so  that  he  fell 
flat  on  his  face.  In  an  instant  the  child  had  seized 
the  pole  and,  returning  to  where  Chabanes  was  still 
valiantly  holding  off  the  five  men,  he  dashed  the 
cresset- light  down  into  the  midst  of  the  group.  The 
count's  assailants  recoiled  before  this  sudden  flash  in 
their  eyes,  and  Chabanes,  who  could  feel  the  warm 
blood  rapidly  filling  his  sleeve,  darted  from  their 
midst,  knocking  one  of  them  over,  and  turned  quickly 
into  a  side-street.  He  had  not  gone  twenty  paces 
when  he  witnessed  the  cowardly  murder  of  a  feeble 
old  man  by  a  powerful  young  bully,  who  laughed  up- 
roariously as  he  saw  the  death  struggles  of  his  victim. 
Chabanes'  blood  boiled  with  rage  and  he  rushed  on  the 
young  man,  sending  him  to  the  ground  with  a  blow 
from  the  flat  of  his  sword.  He  restrained  his  impulse 
to  end  the  bully's  cowardly  life,  and  stepped  over  the 
prostrate  form  of  the  old  man  in  order  to  gain  the 
next  corner,  whence  emanated  shrill  cries  of  anguish. 


398  A  PARFIT  GENTIL   KNIGHT 

As  he  turned  his  back  he  felt  a  sharp  pain  in  his 
shoulder,  and  he  wheeled  quickly,  to  find  the  bully  with 
a  reddened  dagger  in  his  hand.  The  latter  made  an- 
other effort  to  stab  Chabanes,  who  at  once  thrust  his 
sword  into  his  assailant's  breast.  As  he  did  so  the 
count  uttered  a  cry  of  pain.  His  wounded  shoulder 
bled  profusely,  and  each  movement  of  his  sword  arm 
caused  him  great  distress.  Chabanes  shifted  his 
weapon  to  his  left  hand,  which,  although  his  left  arm 
was  pierced  by  a  sword-thrust,  lessened  his  pain. 

A  house  some  paces  ahead  of  him  burst  into  flames. 
The  assassins,  after  murdering  its  occupants,  had 
applied  their  torches  to  the  building.  A  man  bear- 
ing the  apparently  lifeless  body  of  a  young  girl 
hurried  past  Chabanes  and,  when  he  had  reached  the 
burning  house,  thrust  the  body  through  an  open 
window,  which  the  flames  had  almost  reached.  The 
man  then  ran  on,  and  Chabanes,  darting  to  the  house, 
burst  in  the  door  in  the  hope  of  saving  the  woman,  who 
he  fancied  was  not  yet  dead.  He  found  the  latter  in 
the  centre  of  a  large  room  that  was  surrounded  by 
leaping,  roaring  flames.  The  count,  regardless  of  the 
pain  in  his  shoulder,  lifted  the  girl  and  started  for 
the  street.  At  the  same  moment  there  was  a  crash, 
and  he  felt  the  floor  sinking  beneath  him.  Then  he 
had  a  sudden  fall,  and  when  he  regained  his  senses 
he  found  himself  in  the  corner  of  a  cellar  and  sur- 
rounded on  three  sides  by  burning  timbers.  Through 
the  flames,  at  some  little  distance,  he  perceived  the 
body  of  the  girl,  which  he  had  dropped  when  the 
floor  gave  way.  She  was  already  enveloped  in  fire 
and,  as  she  did  not  move,  Chabanes  decided  that 


A  MASSACRE  AND  A   MANIAC  399 

she  had  been  already  dead  when  the  man  cast  her 
body  to  the  flames.  The  heat  was  terrible,  and  the 
count  saw  that  at  any  moment  the  embers  from  the 
burning  timbers  might  fall  on  him  and  set  his  cloth- 
ing ablaze.  He  was  sitting  with  his  back  to  a  low 
iron  door  which,  strangely  enough,  was  still  refresh- 
ingly cool.  He  endeavored  to  open  it  and  it  yielded 
to  a  strong  pull,  a  stream  of  cold  air  rushing  from 
behind  it  and  fanning  back  the  flames.  Chabanes 
threw  himself  through  the  opening  and  quickly  closed 
the  door.  He  found  himself  in  a  passage,  at  the 
farther  end  of  which  he  perceived  a  burning  torch. 
The  house  that  Chabanes  had  entered  was  evidently 
that  of  some  murdered  Huguenot  family,  and  it  was  in 
the  remnant  of  an  abandoned  secret  tunnel  that  the 
count  had  just  taken  refuge  from  the  flames.  The 
farther  end  of  this  tunnel  had  been  filled  in,  for 
the  count,  after  proceeding  along  it  for  twenty  yards, 
came  to  its  termination.  The  torch  that  he  had  per- 
ceived on  entering  the  passage  was  held  by  a  man 
who  sat  against  the  wall  of  earth  terminating  the 
passage. 

As  Chabanes  approached,  the  man  sprang  to  his 
feet  with  a  horrible  cry  and,  seizing  a  great  stone 
in  his  powerful  hands,  brandished  it  threateningly. 

"  Come,  friend,"  said  the  count,  pausing  in  alarm  at 
the  man's  appearance,  "  I  am  not  your  enemy,  so  you 
may  as  well  put  down  your  stone." 

The  man  made  no  reply,  except  a  loud,  discord- 
ant laugh.  He  was  evidently  mad,  —  doubtless  as  a 
result  of  the  terrible  night's  occurrences.  Chabanes 
recoiled  in  alarm.  He  had  lost  his  sword  in  the  burn- 


4OO  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

ing  house  and  his  only  weapon  was  his  dagger.  The 
maniac,  seeing  Chabanes  retreat,  advanced,  still  pois- 
ing the  stone.  The  heat  from  the  burning  house 
could  now  be  felt  in  the  passageway.  Glancing  behind 
him,  Chabanes  saw  that  the  iron  door  was  beginning 
to  glow  with  a  dull  red.  The  maniac  still  continued 
to  advance  and  the  count  to  retreat.  The  roaring  of 
the  flames  on  the  other  side  of  the  door  could  be 
distinctly  heard.  At  length  Chabanes  had  approached 
the  door  as  nearly  as  the  intense  heat  would  permit. 
The  maniac  contemplated  his  victim's  plight  with 
evident  delight,  for  he  continued  to  laugh  diabolically. 
Presently  he  was  within  ten  paces  of  Chabanes.  He 
placed  the  torch  against  the  wall  and  again  balanced 
the  stone  in  both  hands. 

Chabanes  realized  that  he  was  about  to  be  crushed 
beneath  it.  He  therefore  resolved  to  make  an- 
other effort  to  save  himself,  and  suddenly  he  rushed 
on  the  madman  with  drawn  dagger  just  as  the  latter 
hurled  the  stone  straight  at  his  head.  The  count  saw 
the  missile  thrown,  and  he  cast  himself  forward  on  his 
face.  At  the  same  instant  the  madman's  foot  slipped 
and  the  torch  was  overturned  and  extinguished,  leav- 
ing them  in  total  darkness  save  for  the  angry  glow 
of  the  iron  door.  The  stone  passed  over  Cha- 
banes, falling  heavily  on  his  foot.  His  agony  was 
terrible,  and  he  realized  that  his  foot  had  been 
frightfully  crushed.  The  madman  heard  his  victim's 
groans  with  evident  enjoyment,  for  he  laughed  con- 
tinually. After  a  time  the  pain  in  his  foot  ceased, 
giving  way  to  a  numbness,  and  the  count,  dragging 
himself  toward  the  wall,  leaned  his  back  against  it. 


A   PROMISE  AND  A   BLUNDER  4<3I 

The  laughter  of  the  maniac  gradually  lessened  and, 
finally,  for  some  minutes  no  sound,  save  the  crackling 
and  roaring  of  the  flames  without,  broke  the  silence. 

Presently  Chabanes  heard  his  assailant  move,  and 
he  listened  with  every  nerve  strained  for  a  repetition 
of  the  sound.  In  a  few  moments  the  madman  moved 
again ;  he  was  creeping  cautiously  to  where  the  count 
lay.  The  latter  grasped  his  dagger  more  firmly  and 
waited.  The  maniac  crawled  very  slowly  and  with 
great  caution.  Inch  by  inch,  he  dragged  himself 
nearer,  in  the  evident  belief  that  he  made  no  sound 
that  his  enemy  could  hear.  Chabanes  scarcely 
breathed,  so  intense  was  his  desire  to  hear  every 
movement  of  the  maniac.  Once,  when  he  had  heard 
nothing  for  several  minutes,  he  imagined  that  he  felt 
the  hot  breath  of  the  madman  on  his  cheeks,  and  he 
slashed  out  before  him  with  fury,  his  flesh  creeping 
with  terror,  and  perspiration  bursting  from  every  pore. 
The  wounds  in  his  arm  and  shoulder  no  longer  bled, 
though  they  pained  him  severely  with  each  movement. 

At  last  the  madman,  thinking  he  was  within  reach 
of  his  victim,  gave  a  sudden  bound  and  fell  within  a 
few  feet  of  the  latter.  Chabanes  leaned  out  in  the 
direction  of  the  sound  and  plunged  his  dagger  down- 
ward with  all  his  strength.  There  was  a  terrible 
shriek,  followed  by  an  intense  silence,  and  the  count 
realized  that  the  knife  had  done  its  work.  He  let  his 
hand  slowly  slip  down  the  handle  of  the  dagger  till  it 
touched  the  flesh  of  its  victim.  Then  he  uttered  a 
cry  of  horror  and,  shuddering  violently,  withdrew  his 
hand.  The  dagger  had  pierced  the  eye  of  the  mad- 
man,  clear  to  the  hilt. 

26 


XXXIV 

A  LOVE  AND  A  LIFE 

CHABANES  sat  quiet  for  some  moments.  The 
roaring  of  the  flames  had  ceased,  and  the  glow 
had  disappeared  from  the  iron  door.  The  count 
wondered  what  time  it  was  and  drew  from  his  pocket 
his  striking  watch;  the  bell  rang  three  times.  He 
then,  for  lack  of  other  occupation  than  soul-crushing 
meditation,  speculated  on  the  reason  for  his  dead 
assailant's  presence  in  the  passageway.  "  Doubtless," 
he  thought,  "  it  is  some  Huguenot,  driven  mad  by  the 
slaughter  about  him,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  the 
cellar,  like  me,  compelled  by  the  flames  to  seek  this 
hole." 

Chabanes  decided  to  explore  the  passage  more 
thoroughly  and  ascertain  if,  after  all,  there  was  no 
opening  at  the  farther  end.  He  began  to  crawl  in 
that  direction,  carefully  feeling  the  walls  on  either 
side  as  he  went.  At  length,  after  having  traversed 
the  passage  for  fifteen  yards,  he  came  in  contact  with 
the  wall  of  earth  seated  against  which  he  had  first 
seen  the  madman.  On  the  floor  of  the  passage  he 
felt  something  cold  that  proved  to  be  a  sword. 
Doubtless  the  Huguenot  had  left  it  there,  preferring, 
in  his  frenzy,  the  stone  as  a  weapon.  Chabanes 
placed  the  sword  in  his  own  empty  scabbard. 


A  LOVE  AND  A  LIFE  403 

"  Heaven  grant  me  one  more  chance  to  draw  it  in  a 
good  cause !  "  he  cried,  fervently.  He  tried  in  every 
manner  to  stifle  the  terror  aroused  by  the  thought  of 
his  position  in  this  underground  tomb.  He  recalled 
vividly  the  events  of  his  last  night  at  Champigny. 
His  brain  reeled  with  the  memory  of  the  quick  suc- 
cession of  terrible  events  that  had  made  up  the  last 
few  days.  He  felt  that  he  must  do  something,  take 
his  mind  off  those  events,  or,  like  the  Huguenot  he 
had  killed,  go  mad.  He  crawled  back  toward  the 
other  end  of  the  passage,  but,  finding  this  means  of 
locomotion  excessively  slow,  arose  to  his  feet.  He 
found  that,  whenever  he  placed  his  wounded  foot  on 
the  ground,  it  began  to  pain  him,  this  pain  ceasing 
when  the  foot  was  in  contact  with  nothing.  Placing 
his  hand  against  the  wall,  he  hopped  along  the  pas- 
sage for  some  distance  and  suddenly  fell  flat  on  his  face. 
He  had  stumbled  over  the  body  of  the  Huguenot, 
which  lay  across  the  floor.  He  recovered  himself 
and  proceeded  toward  the  iron  door.  It  was  still  too 
hot  to  touch.  He  sat  down  not  far  from  it  and 
decided  to  wait  until  it  cooled,  before  making  any 
further  explorations.  After  an  interminable  interval 
he  again  drew  out  his  watch  and  pressed  the  spring. 
This  time  it  struck  six. 

Chabanes  crawled  to  the  iron  door  and  placed  his 
finger  against  it ;  it  was  cold.  He  placed  his  hand 
on  the  clasp  and  attempted  to  open  the  door.  The 
clasp  refused  to  budge,  notwithstanding  he  leaned  all 
his  weight  on  it.  The  reason  for  this  became  apparent 
to  him;  it  was  welded  together  by  the  heat.  He 
withdrew  from  the  door  in  despair. 


404  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Presently  an  idea  struck  him,  and  he  crawled  back 
and  found  the  stone  that  was  cast  by  the  maniac. 
Then  he  returned  to  the  door  and,  supporting  himself 
against  the  wall,  hurled  the  missile,  still  moist  with  his 
own  blood,  with  all  his  strength  at  the  iron.  The 
door  rattled  beneath  the  force  of  the  blow,  but  did  not 
yield.  The  count  recovered  the  stone  and  hurled 
it  at  the  door  again  and  again.  The  pain  from  his 
wounds  was  excruciating.  He  felt  that  the  wound  in 
his  shoulder  had  opened  again  and  was  bleeding.  At 
last  he  was  rewarded  by  the  sight  of  a  faint  streak 
of  light  over  the  top  of  the  door.  With  increased  de- 
termination he  renewed  his  assault  on  the  barrier. 
The  ray  of  light  grew,  and  Chabanes  saw  that  the 
door  was  gradually  yielding.  Finally,  when  his 
strength  was  almost  exhausted,  the  door  burst  from 
its  hinges  and  fell  back  on  a  heap  of  smouldering 
ashes.  The  count  rushed  to  the  opening,  blinded  by 
the  flood  of  morning  light  that  filled  the  passage. 

The  corner  of  the  cellar  in  which  Chabanes  had 
found  himself,  when  he  fell  with  the  floor  of  the 
burning  building,  was  walled  in  by  a  mass  of  charred 
timbers.  Above  him  he  could  see  the  misty  morn- 
ing sky.  He  at  once  began  to  clear  the  timbers 
away  from  him  so  as  to  make  a  passage  to  the  street. 
This  he  found  not  difficult,  as  the  wood  had  burned 
almost  entirely  through  and  it  broke  readily  in  his 
hands.  His  only  danger  was  that  he  might  allow  the 
heavy  masses  above  to  fall  and  crush  him. 

He  succeeded  at  length  in  reaching  the  outer  wall 
of  the  cellar,  and  he  was  on  the  point  of  making  the 
ascent  to  the  street,  by  means  of  a  rickety  scaffolding 


A   LOVE  AND  A   LIFE  405 

of  burnt  timbers,  when  he  heard  a  voice  that  thrilled 
him  from  head  to  foot.  It  was  that  of  the  Prince  de 
Montpensier,  who  could  not  be  more  than  a  few  yards 
distant. 

"  Ho,  there,  Frangois !  "  cried  the  prince.  "  What 
are  you  doing  here?" 

"  I  seek  M.  le  Comte  de  Chabanes,  Monseigneur," 
was  the  stammered  reply,  in  tones  the  count  recog- 
nized as  those  of  his  valet. 

"  And  how  come  you  in  Paris,  when  you  should  be 
at  Champigny?  " 

"  I  rode  here  with  Mme.  la  Princesse  and  Antoinette 
de  Lerac,  Monseigneur.  Mme.  de  Montpensier  is 
also  seeking  M.  de  Chabanes.  She  has  gone  with  her 
maid  in  the  opposite  direction." 

"  The  princess  in  Paris !  "  Chabanes  heard  Mont- 
pensier exclaim,  half  to  himself.  Then  he  added, 
"  Francois,  how  do  you  know  M.  de  Chabanes  is  in 
Paris?" 

"  We  have  traced  him  to  the  Cours-la-Reine,  Mon- 
seigneur, but  we  cannot  find  him  in  the  city.  He  was 
half-demented,  and  he  must  have  been  murdered." 

"  Listen,  Frangois :  Hercules  is  at  the  H6tel  de 
Montpensier.  Go  there  at  once  and  bring  him  to 
me.  I  will  meet  you  in  a  half-hour  on  this  spot. 
Hercules  will  soon  find  his  master,  even  in  the  midst 
of  all  this  havoc." 

"  I  will  go  at  once,  Monseigneur,"  replied  the  valet, 
eagerly. 

Chabanes  heard  this  dialogue  with  the  greatest 
emotion.  He  trembled  violently  at  every  sound  of 
the  familiar  voices.  Montpensier  desired  to  find  him. 


406  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

Victoire  was  in  Paris  seeking  him.  They  believed 
him  demented  and,  doubtless,  murdered.  He  was 
about  to  cry  out  to  the  prince. 

"  Poor  Raoul !  "  he  heard  Montpensier  mutter  to 
himself,  in  accents  of  sincerest  grief.  Then  he  heard 
the  prince's  steps  slowly  dying  away. 

"  Charles,"  he  .cried,  "  I  am  here  —  Raoul !  "  His 
voice  scarcely  rose  above  a  whisper ;  his  mouth  was 
dry  as  powder ;  his  lips  refused  to  form  the  words  he 
longed  to  shout. 

Chabanes  sank  to  the  ground  in  despair.  "It  is 
the  judgment  of  Heaven  !  "  he  moaned.  "  I  have 
no  right  to  speak  to  him,  —  no  right  ever  to  see  him, 
or  her,  again  !  " 

Hearing  the  sound  of  approaching  hoofs,  he  des- 
perately dragged  himself  to  his  feet  and  recommenced 
the  tedious  ascent  to  the  street.  After  all,  he  must  not 
die  here  without  making  an  effort  to  save  himself. 

The  horses  —  for  there  were  two  of  them  —  came 
nearer.  At  length  they  were  opposite  the  ruins  in 
which  Chabanes  was  buried.  One  of  the  riders  spoke, 
and  the  count  shook  as  though  with  an  ague.  He 
passed  his  hand  over  his  dust-stained  forehead  in 
a  gesture  of  stupefaction.  The  voice  was  that  of 
Victoire. 

"  Ruin  and  havoc  on  every  hand,  Anne  !  "  he  heard 
her  exclaim.  "  What  frightful  things  have  occurred 
in  Paris !  I  fear  we  shall  find  him  among  these 
corpses,  rather  than  among  the  living !  "  Her  voice 
was  filled  with  ineffable  sadness. 

Whom  were  they  seeking?  Dare  he  hope  that  it 
was  he?  Again  the  impulse  seized  him  to  shout 


PRESENTLY  THE  GERMAN    RETURNED  ON    FOOT  TO   RENEW  THE   CONFLICT 


A   LOVE  AND  A   LIFE  407 

to  them  that  he  was  in  the  cellar,  wounded,  ex- 
hausted, dying.  As  before,  he  could  utter  no 
sound. 

His  brain  reeled  madly ;  he  exerted  all  his  strength, 
and  he  had  almost  succeeded  in  reaching  the  top  of 
the  wall,  when  he  again  heard  the  ring  of  hoofs,  this 
time  approaching  rapidly.  Soon  voices  came  to  him 
from  the  street  and  he  heard  a  renewed  clatter  of 
hoofs  near-by,  a  command  to  halt,  and  an  outcry. 

"  They  are  Huguenots !  "  cried  a  voice  that  seemed 
familiar  to  the  count.  "  A  thousand  devils  !  Return ; 
we  must  not  let  them  escape  !  " 

"  Have  mercy  on  us,  M.  de  Besme !  "  implored  the 
voice  of  Victoire,  despairingly.  "We  are  Catholic 
gentlemen,  and  wish  you  no  harm." 

"Nom  de  Dieu!"  replied  the  German  accents  of 
Besme.     "Do   you   think   to   trick    me  with  such  a 
lie  ?     I  know  a  Catholic  gentleman  when  I  see  one,  — 
especially  at  a  time  like  this." 

There  was  a  woman's  scream,  and  the  count  again 
recognized  the  voice  of  the  Princesse-de  Montpensier 
imploring  mercy.  It  flashed  over  him  that  Victoire 
and  her  maid  were  there  in  the  street  alone  with  this 
German  monster  and  about  to  be  killed.  He  made 
a  violent  effort  and  gained  the  top  of  the  wall.  He 
dragged  himself  into  the  street  and,  leaning  against 
a  horse-block,  stood  on  his  uninjured  foot. 

His  anxious  eyes  saw  only  three  cavaliers,  one  of 
whom  he  at  once  recognized  as  Besme,  and  the  other 
two  at  first  seemed  strangers  to  him.  As  the  count 
rose  to  a  standing  position  Besme  rushed  on  the 
others  with  drawn  sword. 


408  A   PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  Help  !  "  cried  the  voice  of  Victoire. 

Chabanes  could  not  believe  his  senses.  Could 
that  be  the  Princesse  de  Montpensier,  disguised,  and 
in  a  man's  costume  ?  He  did  not  reflect  long,  for  he 
saw  that  a  murder  was  about  to  be  committed,  neither 
of  the  cavaliers  that  Besme  was  about  to  attack  draw- 
ing his  sword  at  the  German's  approach.  The  count 
hobbled  into  the  middle  of  the  street,  regardless  of 
his  mangled  foot,  and  threw  himself  desperately  be- 
tween Besme  and  the  latter's  intended  victim.  Besme's 
sword  descended  with  great  force  and  crashed  into 
Chabanes'  shoulder. 

The  count  did  not  utter  an  outcry.  He  had  recog- 
nized Victoire  beneath  the  wig  and  false  beard. 
"  Dismount  and  run  quickly  for  shelter !  "  he  cried  to 
her,  drawing  his  sword  and  preparing  to  face,  wounded 
as  he  was,  the  German,  who  had  retreated  at  this  sud- 
den interposition  of  another. 

The  three  riders  uttered  a  simultaneous  cry. 

"  Raoul !  "  cried  one. 

"  M.  de  Chabanes !  "  exclaimed  another. 

"  At  last !  "  shouted  Besme. 

The  two  women  instantly  dismounted  and  ran  for 
shelter,  while  the  German  rushed  fiercely  at  the 
count.  The  latter  stepped  aside  in  time  to  parry  his 
enemy's  blow  and  to  thrust  his  sword  into  the  horse's 
throat.  In  an  instant  both  steed  and  rider  were  roll- 
ing in  the  dust.  Chabanes  watched  them  calmly, 
supporting  himself  on  his  sword.  Presently  the  Ger- 
man, swearing  with  rage  and  mortification,  having 
extricated  himself,  returned  on  foot  to  renew  the  con- 
flict. Chabanes,  as  he  stood  awaiting  him,  was  in- 


'  A  LOVE  AND  A  LIFE  409 

deed  a  terrifying  spectacle.  His  face  was  covered 
with  a  crust  of  blood  and  dust,  his  hair  dishevelled, 
and  his  clothing  torn  and  burned  to  shreds  and 
tatters.  A  stream  of  blood  trickled  down  his  left 
arm,  which  hung  limp,  and  dropped  from  his  fingers 
to  the  ground. 

Besme  sprang  at  him  fiercely,  believing  that  in  his 
enemy's  wounded  condition  he  should  have  little 
trouble  in  exhausting  him.  Indeed,  Chabanes  was 
able  to  maintain  his  erect  position  only  through  the 
exercise  of  his  wonderful  will,  but  he  valiantly  re- 
ceived the  furious  attack  of  the  German.  The  con- 
test was  short  and  furious.  Chabanes,  forced  by  his 
wounded  foot  to  maintain  one  position,  received  a 
thrust  that  staggered  him.  Besme  saw  him  falter 
and  laughed  fiendishly,  at  the  same  time  recklessly 
allowing  his  own  guard  to  become  lax.  Chabanes, 
with  a  final  effort,  hurled  himself  forward  and  ran  his 
antagonist  through  to  the  hilt.  The  German  and 
Chabanes  fell  at  the  same  moment,  the  one  dead  and 
the  other  terribly  wounded. 

Victoire  and  Antoinette,  who  had  watched  this 
fierce  combat  in  extreme  terror  and  grief,  ran  for- 
ward and  threw  themselves  on  their  knees  beside 
Chabanes.  He  smiled  faintly  as  he  recognized  them ; 
they  had  torn  off  their  hats  and  wigs. 

"  Raoul !  "  cried  the  princess.  "  It  is  I,  Victoire ; 
do  you  know  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Victoire,"  Chabanes  replied,  feebly ;  "  and 
Antoinette  here,  I  know,  too."  He  was  breathing 
laboredly. 

Antoinette  had  moistened   her  handkerchief  at  a 


410  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGKT 

horse-trough  near-by,  and  she  passed  it  over  his 
features,  removing  the  blood  and  dust  that  covered 
them.  The  count  faintly  smiled  his  thanks. 

"  Can  you  not  rise,  Raoul  ?  "  asked  Victoire,  ten- 
derly. "  We  have  come  such  a  weary  way  for  you, 
and  it  breaks  my  heart  to  find  you  so  wounded  !  " 

Chabanes  did  not  reply;  his  breathing  became 
momentarily  more  difficult  and  he  clutched  convul- 
sively at  his  breast.  Antoinette  gently  unfastened 
his  doublet  about  his  throat.  There  was  a  long 
wound  in  his  chest  from  which  the  blood  spouted  at 
every  breath. 

"  My  God,  Madame  !  "  she  murmured  to  Victoire. 
"  He  is  dying !  " 

Again  Chabanes  smiled  peacefully.  He  now 
seemed  to  be  unconscious  of  pain. 

"  Dying !  "  wailed  the  princess,  wildly.  "  Oh,  no ; 
it  cannot  be!  You  will  live,  Raoul,  will  you  not? 
We  have  so  much  to  tell  you,  so  much  to  ask  you  to 
forgive,  so  much  to  do  for  you  !  " 

Antoinette  began  to  cry  softly,  hiding  her  face  in 
her  kerchief.  Chabanes'  eyes  lighted  up  with  joy. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  slowly  and  with  the  greatest  ef- 
fort, "  I  am  dying.  What  —  have  —  you  —  to  —  tell — 
me?" 

"  Raoul !  Raoul !  "  wailed  Victoire,  piteously.  "  Oh, 
I  cannot  bear  to  give  you  up !  Live  for  me  again 
as  you  have  always  lived  for  me  —  only,  now,  I  will 
always  live  for  you.  Oh,  my  God,  must  he  die  for 
me,  too?  " 

Chabanes'  breathing  was  becoming  weaker  and  his 
strength  was  almost  gone.  He  made  another  effort 


A  LOVE  AND  A  LIFE  411 

to  speak,  but  he  could  only  whisper.  "  Yes,  I  must 
die  for  you,  too,"  he  said,  slowly ;  "  but  I  shall  do  so 
happy  in  the  thought  that  you  want  me  to  live." 

"  Oh,  my  God  !  "  Victoire  cried.  "  How  you  suffer ! 
How  you  have  suffered  !  How  I  have  always  made 
you  suffer !  Live  for  me,  Raoul,  that  I  may  atone  by 
making  you  happy  !  " 

"  I  am  already  repaid  a  thousand  times  for  my 
sufferings,"  whispered  Chabanes,  faintly.  "I  never 
knew  you  cared  for  me  so." 

At  that  moment  a  chattering  party  of  men  and 
women  rode  past  They  were  courtiers,  out  viewing 
the  results  of  the  massacre,  and  they  jested  lightly  as 
they  gazed  from  corpse  to  corpse  and  ruin  to  ruin. 
At  their  head  rode  the  Due  de  Guise  beside  the 
Marquise  de  Noirmoustier,  his  new  mi-stress. 

"  What  an  extraordinary  interest  those  two  gentle- 
men seem  to  be  taking  in  that  dead  man  !  "  exclaimed 
Guise  to  the  marquise.  "  One  would  think  corpses 
were  rare  in  Paris  !  " 

Victoire  raised  her  eyes  just  as  the  marquise,  in 
expressing  her  appreciation  of  the  duke's  jest,  was 
bestowing  a  familiar  tap  on  his  shoulder. 

"  I  love  you,  Raoul !  "  said  the  princess,  with  the 
utmost  fervency.  "  I  love  you  !  " 

The  light  of  supreme  happiness  irradiated  the 
count's  features. 

"  The  prince  forgives  you  all,  and  has  asked  me  to 
make  you  happy.  He  also  loves  you,  but  not  as  I  do. 
I  love  you,  Raoul !  " 

"  Then  God  be  praised  !  "  he  whispered,  faintly,  so 
that  Victoire  had  to  incline  her  face  very  near  to  his 


412  A  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

in  order  to  hear,  and  so  that  her  tears  fell  on  his  pale 
cheek.     "  My  joy  lacks  nothing !  " 

He  closed  his  eyes  peacefully.  Victoire  did  not 
know  when  he  died.  She  had  only  his  word  —  the 
inviolate  word  of  the  Comte  de  Chabanes  —  that  he 
died  happy  in  the  knowledge  that  it  was  for  her  sake 
and  that  she  loved  him  at  last. 

And  so  he  died,  as  he  had  lived,  smiling  in  his  pain, 
experiencing  in  a  few  brief  moments  what  repaid  him 
amply  for  years  of  struggle  and  self-sacrifice ;  brave 
and  true,  and  in  the  knowledge  that,  in  spite  of  all, 
the  escutcheon  of  Raoul  de  la  Tour  d'lvoire,  Comte  de 
Chabanes,  remained  as  spotless  as  new-fallen  snow. 

Victoire  tenderly  raised  his  head  and  placed  it  on 
her  knee,  smoothing  back  the  matted  hair  from  the 
pale  brow.  Then  she  leaned  forward  and  reverently 
kissed  his  tranquil  forehead. 

There  was  a  step  at  her  side  and  a  hand  rested  on 
her  shoulder.  Looking  up,  she  met  the  kindly  face  of 
Mother  Franchise.  Simultaneously  they  recognized 
each  other. 

"  Mother,"  said  Victoire,  softly,  as  though  she 
feared  disturbing  his  slumbers,  "  this  was  the  noblest 
man  in  all  the  world." 

"  Did  he  die  unshriven,  daughter?  " 

"  God  gave  him  absolution,  Mother,  in  the  manner 
of  his  death.  He  died  for  me,  as  he  had  lived  for  me." 

Again  Victoire's  tears  joined  those  of  Antoinette  as 
they  knelt  together  beside  their  dead.  Presently 
Mother  Frangoise  placed  her  hands  on  the  discon- 
solate women's  heads. 

"  Come,  my  daughters,"  she  said,  gently,  a  world 


A   LOVE  AND  A   LIFE  413 

of  tender  sympathy  in  her  voice,  "  there  are  tears  to 
dry  and  prayers  to  offer,  work  for  us  all  to  do.  God 
will  take  care  of  his  soul." 

A  man,  followed  by  a  great  boar-hound  rushed  up 
to  them.  It  was  Francois.  He  had  found  Hercules, 
who,  turned  adrift  from  the  Bastille  after  Chabanes' 
escape,  had  made  his  way  to  the  H6tel  de  Mont- 
pensier. 

Frangois  perceived  the  body  of  Chabanes  and  at 
once  understood  the  meaning  of  the  women's  tear- 
stained  faces.  He  knelt  beside  his  dead  master  and 
burst  into  heart-broken  sobs.  Hercules,  who  had 
bounded  gleefully  up  to  the  group,  dropped  his  tail 
at  the  sight  of  his  master  lying  still  and  pale.  He 
stretched  himself  on  the  ground  and,  uttering  little 
plaintive  growls,  began  to  crawl  slowly  toward  the 
spot  where  lay  the  count.  At  length  he  gained  his 
dead  master's  side  and  diffidently  licked  his  hand. 
He  stepped  back  expectantly  as  though  he  anticipated 
a  caress.  Then  he  crawled  to  his  master's  feet  and 
lay  with  his  nose  buried  between  his  paws. 

Victoire  withdrew  her  hand  from  that  of  Mother 
Franchise  and  again  threw  herself  on  her  knees  beside 
the  body  of  her  dead  lover.  She  lifted  his  head  in 
her  arms  and  rained  passionate  kisses  on  his  white 
face.  Presently  some  one  knelt  opposite  her,  and  she 
raised  her  glance  to  the  grief-stricken  countenance 
of  her  husband.  Montpensier's  eyes  were  rilled  with 
tears.  He  extended  his  hand  and  Victoire  seized  it 
fervently. 

"  I  told  him  that  you  loved  him,"  she  said,  her  voice 
choking  with  despair. 


414  *  PARFIT  GENTIL  KNIGHT 

"  And  that  you  —  ?  "  said  Montpensier,  slowly. 

"  That  I  loved  him  madly !  " 

"  Then,  thank  God,  he  knew  before  he  died  !  " 

Neither  spoke  again.  Their  hearts  and  eyes  were 
overflowing;  their  mouths  twisted  in  the  agony  of 
inexpressible  grief. 

"  Come,  my  daughter,"  repeated  Mother  Frangoise, 
tenderly ;  "  God  has  already  received  his  soul." 


FINIS 


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